


Closing Distances

by loofingaround



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Robin (Comics)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Child Abuse, Dick Grayson is Robin, Emotional Manipulation, Family Feels, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Tim Drake, New tags, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Bonding, Sorry Tim, Tim Drake-centric, also ty for the comments sorry my replies are slow i swear i appreciate you, as in tims dad randomly shows upp to be homophobic for two lines or so, dnd talk, i have too many useless tags including this one, light homophobia, lowkey dickwally but not a selling point its just dick having goo goo eyes for wally lmao, no editing we die like robins, or at least he will be!, this is only the begining, wally shows up for thirty seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loofingaround/pseuds/loofingaround
Summary: After figuring out who's been tailing them at night, Bruce and Dick have the perfect opportunity to investigate when Tim's nanny quits.In other words, Dick becomes Tim's babysitter in an attempt to find out why he's been stalking Batman and Robin. At some point, they become family.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 158
Kudos: 1108





	1. Gala

Tim sat against the window seat, cheek smushed against the glass as he watched the outside. His parents had just gotten home and they were already planning another trip. The only issue was Tim, which Tim recognized he was a problem every time, but it was worse this trip. 

He'd managed to run off his last house keeper. She was a nice lady, certainly, but she was young and stressed and after Tim snuck out for the billionth time, she couldn't handle him anymore. Tim would miss, that is if he knew anything about her.

Now his parents were scrambling to find someone who would take over on such short notice. It'd be easier if it wasn't the middle of October and college students and most nannies weren't already busy. 

Tim picked at his shoe laces, ignoring his parents as they yelled at each other downstairs. Mom seemed to think dad should have already had a plan for this, and dad's stressed because he never has a plan. He was about to go downstairs and retry his  _ I'm Old Enough to Watch Myself _ speech, when his mom called out to him. Scrambling to get to his parents before he could end up in any more trouble, Tim booked it to the foyer.

His mom looked strict and upset, her lips turned down in a displeased grimace and her hands on her hips. "Timothy, we have a gala in just a few hours. We weren't going to attend, but seeing as your father and I are stuck here for the night until we can find you a suitable nanny, we may as well go," she informed, looking none too pleased to have a fancy party to attend. Galas were more of dad's thing, which is probably why he looked much more pleased than mom.

"You still fit your old tux, sport? Go try it on and we'll fix it up for you," his dad ruffled his hair, albeit a bit roughly, and nudged him back away from his mom. 

"Who's gala will we be attending?" He asked, stepping back towards the stairs. 

"The Wayne's, so make sure you look your best, Timothy. That means fixing your hair," his mother informed with an eye roll.

Tim nodded, turning tail to hike it to his room.

_ The Waynes _ !! He would be at Batman and Robin's party! Tim burst into his room, hopping around a bit, narrowly missing stepping on any toys. Feeling excited, he started to search for his dress wear, already plotting how he'd introduce himself to Robin. 

"Well... He'll be Dick tonight. I'll have to make sure I don't slip up," he told himself. With some struggle, he managed to get into his fit and tame his hair.

His suit fit just about as perfectly as it did when he first got it. It was a shame he hadn't had a growth spurt yet but there was still time. And hey, there were other 10 year olds who were only 4'! He wasn't the absolute shortest kid in class.

Making his way to his parents rooms, knowing there was no way his mom was done getting his dad ready yet, he made sure everything looked okay. Smoothing his jacket one last time, he knocked on his parents door.

"Come in, Timothy," he heard his mom's voice call out, and he scooted into the room.

"I finished."

"I see that."

"Look at you, son," his dad laughed from where he was buried under his mom's work, "still fits huh? A little lady charmer even at nine. You got a girlfriend yet?"

Mom smacked dad with her hairbrush and he laughed, Tim didn't think it was that funny but he was still reeling over his dad's commentary.

"No. Not yet."

"Get on that, can't have anyone getting the wrong idea. And you gotta keep up the legacy, you come from a long line of Lady Killers, Tim!" This time when his mom smacked him, he didn't laugh so much. Tim shifted uncomfortably, but nodded in agreement.

"Timothy, come here." His mom pointed to the spot beside her, and he marched over obediently.

She messed with his hair, dragging a comb through it, and fixed his attire until she deemed him fit to leave the house. When she was finished, she pushed him back towards the door, turning back to his dad.

"Very well, you look good now, Timothy. Don't mess up my work." 

"Yes ma'am." With the dismissal, he hurried off to go practice his greeting some more. 

Standing in front of the big mirror in the bathroom, he pulled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest.

"Hello, Richard- no, jeez, am I his teacher?"

He dropped his shoulders, hunching in on himself. 

"Hi, Dick. I just wanted to say, I'm a huge fan and oh I'm so stupid why would I be his fan? He can't know I know about Robin and there's no way I can mention the circus!" Tim rapped his fist against his head, trying to jar some thoughts. 

Hands behind his back this time, he stood up straight and stared his reflection down. Then, he smiled.

"Hey, I'm Tim! I think we're neighbors?"

His grin dropped and he looked at himself, shocked. "Think? I think we're neighbors? Ugh, he's gonna think I'm so stupid by the end of this!" 

Leaving the bathroom, he went to pace around his room. Kicking aside Legos and action figures, he walked in circles until his legs got tired. Words swirled in his head but all of it made him sound like a fool.

He could've gone at it all night, but soon enough he was interrupted by another call to the foyer. He grabbed his shoes and clomped back downstairs, almost sidelined by his mother's purse at the bottom.

"There you are. You're going to make us late at this rate." 

"It's fine, c'mon kid, we got a party to get to," his dad said with a jovial smile, making his mom look all the more grim. In the car, his mom fixed his hair once more, before giving up with a huff. Tim couldn't feel disheartened though, he was way too excited about seeing his heros in person.

The ride over was quick enough, being neighbors to the Wayne's meant pretty easy access to attending charity events and other such parties. Sadly, with his parents out of town so often, and his mother's hate of such events, the last time Tim had gotten to go to a gala was years ago. Long before Robin was around.

Keeping calm was proving to be difficult, as his mother had to grab him by the arm when they got out of the car. She continued to hold him all the way into the building, her grip firm and unwavering, but her smile flashy and confident. He was pulled around from couple to couple for what felt like an hour before his mom finally let him go. 

"Timothy, why don't you go find something to busy yourself with? I'm sure you're hungry," his mom tried, and the ladies she'd been talking to cooed.

"Your son is so sweet, Janet. You're lucky you had such a polite, young man," one told her, smiling at Tim. 

An older lady agreed, "very lucky, my son was awful. He couldn't handle these events without absolutely bawling." 

The rest of the conversation grew quiet as Tim drew further away from the group. Now was his time to shine, he'd find Dick and he'd introduce himself and he'd become friends with Robin and!

His mom was right though, he was pretty hungry. Food first, then becoming Robin's best friend.

The trip to the food bar was only interrupted a few times by old ladies wishing him well and yada yadaing about how tall he's gotten. Tim would believe them a bit more if he wasn't staring at their hips. If his dad wasn't so against such things, Tim swears he'd invest in some heels. 

The food at galas was hit or miss, but the Wayne's had provided some good shit this time around. Tim loaded his tiny plate with everything he could reach, fish cakes, mini sausage rolls, fancy cheeses, the best of the best.

While contemplating if he could get away with grabbing and filling another plate, he bumped into another patron. Luckily it wasn't like a movie where his plate went flying and food covered him or the bump, but he did have to catch himself before he dropped anything.

"O-oh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Tim looked up to the person he hit, and blanched.

In front of him stood Robin in all his glory. Only tonight he was Dick Grayson, Wayne ward and Gotham's most charming rich boy. If Tim could sink into the ground and cease to exist, that would be wonderful.

"Hey, it's cool, you alright too? I didn't knock your food off, yea?" 

Tim squeaked, holding in a much louder scream, and nodded. Then shook his head, and nodded again. "No?! I'm sorry," Tim tried, holding his head still.

Mr. Grayson laughed, or wait, should Tim think of him as Dick? No that's too personal. Tim had to stop himself from shaking his head again.

So, Mr. Grayson laughed, reaching out a hand to ruffle Tim's hair. Mom would be mad, but Tim felt like he was on cloud nine.

"There aren't really any kids here. You wanna take your plate over to where I'm sitting?" Mr. Robin offered, and Tim thought he was going to explode. He agreed and followed the other.

Rather than going to one of the dining tables set up, Dick led him all the way to the kitchen. When the older boy took a seat at the island in the middle of the room, he followed suit, setting his plate down before hoisting himself up onto the tall barstool. 

"Careful, little guy. Need some help?"

"'M not a little guy, I got it," Tim cringed. He hoped Robin wouldn't mind that he talked back. But no reprimand came, and neither did a punishing smack. So he settled onto the stool and started to eat. 

Now that he was actually here with Robin, he was too nervous to look at him. 

"What's your name, kiddo?"

_ Remember the plan, just say it like we practiced, Tim. _

"I'm Dick Drake, no wait! I'm Tim Grayson- fuck!" Tim groaned into his hands, hiding his face from the other. 

The other boy just laughed, snorting as he chuckled at Tim's antics. He rubbed Tim's back, trying to hold back his laughter. "I'm gonna piece together that you're Tim Drake? And that you know I'm Dick Grayson?"

Tim nodded, feeling warm inside when Dick positively beamed at him. He didn't know what he did to deserve such a smile, but it made him proud to know he could make Robin happy.

"Alright, Tim, what have you been up to? I swear I haven't seen you around the galas much before?" Dick asked, sneaking a treat off Tim's plate.

Tim pouted at the stolen food, but answered, "um. My parents don't come usually, so I don't come either. Cause I wouldn't just show up without anyone with me and yea."

Dick hummed, snatching some more food from Tim. "What do you do for fun, Timmy?"

Tim gawked at the nickname, trying not to show his distaste in it. "I, uh, I code? And play Wizards and Warlocks. And I learned how to skateboard last year." 

_ Nice job, Tim. Tell him your whole life story next. _

Dick looked pleased, despite Tim's drawn out, boring response. "Ooo coding huh? I didn't think they had any coding classes in elementary? I didn't see any until high school."

"I don't do it with the school. I just teach myself at home," Tim admitted shyly, hoping Dick didn't think he was joking about his coding. 

The older looked impressed, and like he had another question on the tip of his tongue, when someone else entered the kitchen. Tim suspected wait staff at first, but when he twisted in his seat to check it out, he almost fell off the stool. Bruce Wayne,  _ The Batman _ , was standing in front of him! In a three piece suit that already looked like women had been trying to get into, and perfectly mused hair that Tim knew he'd heard his dad complain about.

Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, Tim sat back in shock as Batman approached them. 

"Heya chum, I see you found yourself a friend?" Mr. Wayne asked Dick, looking for an introduction. 

"Yea, this is Tim. Tim Drake," Dick put an arm over Tim's shoulder and pulled him over a bit and Tim knew he was dying. There was no way he wasn't dead right now. 

"Oh, Janet and Jack's son, right." Mr. Wayne didn't really ask, but Tim nodded anyways. When Mr. Wayne put his hand out, Tim felt like all his joints filled with lead. Raising his hand to shake Mr. Wayne's, he felt sweat build up on his forehead. 

"It's nice to meet you, son. How are your parents? Back from Peru?"

"Nice too, you... Meet." 

_ Tim... You fucking moron, go home, you can't recover. _

Put Tim tried to ignore his stutter, pressing on in a waylaid attempt to befriend his hero. "My parents are good. They're actually back from, um, the Netherlands. They're supposed to leave to Brazil soon." 

Mr. Wayne looked interested, more so than Tim would expect him to when speaking to a lame ten year old, and pressed on. "What's brought you here tonight? I expected you guys to be on the next flight?" 

"Oh well, I don't go with them. And I... My sitter quit a bit ago, and my parents can't find a new one so... They're stuck here a little longer."

Mr. Wayne was quiet a minute, him and Dick were looking at each other and it reminded Tim of Batman and Robin. Then, as if coming to a silent agreement, Mr. Wayne smiled down at him. "You hear that, Dickie? You might just have landed yourself a job!"

"Sounds that way, Bruce," Dick said with a smile.

"Huh? I mean, what do you mean?" Tim asked, adjusting the collar of his shirt. This couldn't be real. Robin? Watching over him in the afternoons? They couldn't be implying that, could they?! 

"Bruce has been haggling me all summer about needing to get a job and 'experience' the real world," Dick told him, his voice lilting with a whine.

"You know, I worked when I was a boy. Alfred had me go out and wash cars on the corner," Bruce told him in such a way that Tim was sure Dick had heard this story a hundred times.

"I'm, I mean, I'm not sure what my parents would say?" Tim tried, even though his mind screamed at him to let it be. This was his chance! And he was deliberately ruining it! 

But Mr. Wayne just smiled down at him, and Tim couldn't believe it but it looked like an actual real smile, not a Brucie grin. "I'll just have to go talk to them, then. I'm sure we could work something out. Dick just got his license and your schools are so close. It'd be easy for him to pick you up and get you home!" Bruce assured, melting back into his gala act.

"I think my parents are looking more for someone to stay with me in the afternoons and maybe evenings? I think, maybe?"

Bruce rubbed a finger against his chin, nodding. "Then I'm sure Dick could handle that. He could even bring you over to our home. You could eat dinner with us and Alfred." 

"Alfred?" Tim asked. He knew who Alfred was but he had to keep up the act. To them, he had no idea who they were outside of their mainstream personalities. 

"Our butler, but he's more like a mom," Dick supplied. He still had his arm around Tim's shoulder, but it was much looser now. Tim almost wanted to pull away, he'd had a lot of new experiences and human contact tonight and he deserved a break.

"Alright kids, I'll see you both later tonight, hopefully! I'll go see if I can crack your parents, Tim," Mr. Wayne chuckled, and as quickly as he had come in, he was out again. 

Tim's head felt heavy, he was actually legitimately going to possibly have Robin as his fucking babysitter. 

_ Holy shit. _

Turning back to his plate, which was now much emptier as Dick continued to munch on his meal, Tim tried to calm down. He just talked to Batman, he's eating lemon cakes with Robin, and soon... Soon he might be spending every afternoon with them and Mr. Pennyworth. 

Dick chatted beside him, telling him random things and stories about Bruce and Tim didn't hear much of it. He just sat and stewed in a mixture of excitement and nerves as he contemplated what was going on.


	2. First Day on the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Dick spend some time bonding.

Tim stared at his ceiling, the glow n the dark stars decorating it mocking his inner turmoil. It was Sunday night, his parents had left this morning, and tomorrow he had school. Sounded simple enough, his usual routine.

Except it wasn't, because tomorrow after school he'd be picked up by none other than Dick Grayson. 

To make a hazy story short, or as short as Tim could walk himself through it, at some point he and Dick had gone back to the main room together. It was getting late and Tim thought his parents may be wanting to go home soon. Not a moment later, he was flanked by his mom and dad, both looking more pleased with him than he'd ever seen before.

Mr. Wayne followed behind them, clasping a hand on Dick's shoulder. He had a big, fake grin on, and him and Tim's parents talked about Tim and Dick and school and babysitting and Tim could barely keep up. He was in a bit of a trance while his parents finalized the arrangement, and they were soon pulling Tim to leave, but just before he could disappear into the sea of people, Dick grabbed his arm.

"Hey, I'll see you soon, Timmy! Have a good weekend."

Mr. Wayne was watching him, his smile was dim now, but he looked less plastic, and Tim felt his whole body warm up. He nodded, and let his parents lead him home. 

He'd spent the rest of the night and the following day dazed. Even his mom and dad leaving this morning didn't hurt as bad as usual!

After hours of contemplation, Tim decided he was excited.  _ Super fucking excited _ . And even if he was doing it for allowance or "maturing", Dick was still hanging out with him. Tim would make sure to enjoy this for as long as he could.

He'd have to make sure Dick and Mr. Wayne didn't find out about Tim's little sneaking out habits, but that should be easy enough. If they hadn't found him out this far into the game, no way they could catch him now. He'd just have to hide his photos in a better place in case Dick saw under his bed and asked abt the boxes he had under there.

_ Tim, you sound paranoid. _

Tim grumbled to himself, burying his face into his pillow. Sue him, he was nervous! But he was happy. Maybe... Maybe if he was lucky, Dick and Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth will like him so much that even after Dick graduates high school, they'll still want him around? Maybe when his parents didn't come home for the holidays, he could spend it with them? Or when mom and dad missed his birthday, they wouldn't and Mr. Wayne would bring him a new skateboard, and ruffle his hair, and Dick would give him a piggyback ride and eat cake with him until they were sick to their stomachs on sugar? 

Maybe if he was well behaved enough, the Wayne's would start to see him as more than just a job? More like... Family. 

Tim couldn't believe himself, flopping a pillow over his face to conceal his smile. He shouldn't be thinking like this, he has a family! A whole mom and dad! But something about the idea of having an older brother and a dad and a butler who's more family than staff, it made him break out in a huge grin and light fits of giggles.

Well, what his parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them! Though, Tim wasn't sure they'd care even if they did know. Settling back into bed, he went to sleep with thoughts of Batman and Robin, and their secret agent on com links, all hanging out with him.

The next morning was a rush, he put on his coolest Wizards and Warlocks shirt and nicest jeans. He even tried to style his hair, though it mostly flopped back into its usual messy state.

He ate breakfast quickly, choking on his cereal but feeling no need to calm down. In just a few hours he'd be spending  _ hours _ with his hero. Slipping on the nicest pair of sneakers he had, he grabbed his Superman backpack, he had to stay low-key about his love for Batman, and headed to the front entrance. 

Tearing the door open, he came face to chest with another person. Looking up he spotted Dick, also all ready for school but managing to look ten times cooler than Tim ever had.

"Hey buddy! I see you're chipper this morning, headed out early?" The older boy asked, stepping back to give Tim some more space. 

Tim also stepped back, shielding himself from embarrassment with the door. Head ducked, he checked his watch. "No, I’m right on time. I, um, I have to leave early so I can walk to the bus and take it to 116th street so I can get to the school bus."

Dick 'ah'd in acknowledgement, "oh, sounds like a long trip for a little kid like you?"

"I'm not that little. I'm ten. And I'm gonna be eleven soon," Tim bit his lip, cursing himself for acting too casual too fast with Dick. What if he thought Tim was rude? 

"You're a big kid, huh? Then I suppose I'll let you sit in the front seat on the way to school, then. Don't tell Bruce, though," Dick was laughing, and Tim was pretty sure it was at him but it still made him happy.

"Front seat?" 

"Mhm, I thought I'd give you a ride to school since I'm already giving you one home," Dick nodded towards his car which sat running in the middle of Tim's driveway. 

"You don't have to do that! I can take the bus!" Tim tried, there was no way he was gonna make Robin go even more out of his way. 

"Don't worry about it, your house is on the way anyways. And it gives us more chances to get to know each other. I'll admit, I've never really heard of you before seeing you at the gala," Dick was rubbing the back of his neck and looked a little ashamed with himself.

Tim ignored the part of his mind questioning why someone as amazing and cool as Robin would want to hang out with him and instead let the feeling of  _ holy shit Robin wants to know me better _ overwhelm him. "Okay, but if it starts to get annoying to pick me up in the morning, you can stop! Just try and tell me the night beforehand, please." 

Dick ruffled his hair, chuckling at Tim again. He followed Dick to the car and settled into the passenger seat, buckling in tight. 

"So Tim, tell me about your Wizards and Warlocks campaign. The design on your shirts’s cool, what edition is it from?" Dick asked, pulling out of the driveway. Excitement burst in Tim's chest, and he ended up spending the entire car ride explaining the beginning and trials of his campaign to Dick. It wasn't until the car was parked that he realized he'd made it to school.

"And so he's, that's um, that's how my friends orc died," he finished the part of the tale, hands twisting into the hem of his shirt.

"Dang... You'll have to finish the recap for me later," Dick told him with a grin, patting Tim on the head, "I'll see you later Timmy!" 

"Yea, yea! I'll um, have a good day at school, Dick," Tim dragged himself out the car and tried not to slam the door shut. He also tried to calm himself down when he noticed that Dick's car didn't leave until after Tim had made it inside the building.

School was typical, if Tim was writing a story, school would be the parts he'd skip out on. He spent all day doing the same things he always did, daydream during English, get all his homework done in math, plan his bat-watching trips for the coming week in history, and talk WaW at lunch with his friends. Yea, if Tim had the option to, he'd press skip on all of this. 

Luckily the day ended soon enough, and he was let back into freedom! All day he'd waited to see Dick again, but the high school let out a little later than his school so he had to wait just a little longer. He sat on the curb and watched all the other kids around him disappear into busses and random cars. It took about twenty minutes for Dick's car to pull into the lot, and Tim jumped up and headed over before he could even park.

Getting in, he buckled up and looked to Dick expectantly.

"How was school?"

Dick laughed, "I was about to ask you that. My day was fine, junior year is only so interesting. What about you?" 

"My friend poured milk in his ranch and drank it and it was pretty gross," Tim told him, looking out the window. Dick burst out laughing, starting up a story about his friend chugging hand lotion. Tim grinned, holding a hand up to hide his laughs. When they fell quiet again, Tim couldn't think of what to say next.

_ What do adults talk about? Or well... High schoolers, Dick's not that old. But he's way older than me. _

Thankfully, Dick started a new topic, telling him about other stories from friends and his own fair share of dumb decisions. Hearing about Robin doing such goofy and childish things made Tim giddy. Batman let Robin act... Act like a child, and Tim felt awed and a strange sense of want. 

"So I was thinking, we stop by your house and drop your bag off and then we can go back to my house? Alfred's probably ready made his after school snack for us, you're gonna love it." 

Tim agreed, he probably would love it. His last nanny wasn't any good at cooking, so he ate a lot of Kraft Mac n Cheese and Chef Boyardee. Anything that didn't come from a box or can would taste amazing right about now.

When they got to Tim's place, it was in and out. He threw his bag down, hurried out after locking the door, and scooted back into the car. 

"That was quick, you didn't need to grab anything did you? We'll be at the manor for awhile." 

"No, I don't have anything. I mean, I don't need anything," if Tim could hit his head against the window and not look like a crazy person, that'd be nice.

"Kay, buckle up Tim!" The drive to Wayne Manor wasn't long, and Tim and Dick were making their way inside soon enough. Mr. Pennyworth greeted them at the door, looking tall and posh and exactly like Tim would expect a butler to look like. 

"Welcome home, Master Dick. And welcome, Master Timothy, it's wonderful to meet you finally. Masters Wayne and Dick were talking about you all night."

Tim shyly offered his hand, unsure of how to properly greet the man without offending him. "It's nice to meet you as well, Mr. Pennyworth. Dick told me a bit about you." 

"I'm certain he has, I am the source of his favorite meals," Alfred sounded a bit smug, Tim supposed he took great pride in his work. 

Dick laughed and tugged Tim further into the home with him, calling back to Alfred over his shoulder, "you know I love you for more than just your souffle, Alfie!" 

"I'm sure." Tim snickered, he decided he liked Mr. Pennyworth quite a bit. Dick led him upstairs, and to what seemed to be a small library. Well, as small as a personal library could be. It had several plush couches which Dick did not hesitate to throw his backpack and self onto.

"Go ahead and get comfy, Timbit! We got time for you to finish catching me up on your campaign!" Dick told him, and Tim was practically buzzing with excitement.

Robin, the Robin, cared about his dumb Wizards and Warlocks stories! Clambering up onto the couch, scooted far enough from Dick that they had a panel between them, he got to work on retelling his friend's tales. 

At some point Mr. Pennyworth had brought in cucumber sandwiches and a plate of cookies, which Tim thanked him for of course, and saw himself back out. It felt like Tim had gone on for hours, getting into the stories and throwing his hands up in effect and putting as much umph into his detailing as possible.

Dick looked pleased the whole time, he had a soft smile on his face and he never took his eyes off Tim and his wild gestures for too long. They ate through the snacks Mr. Pennyworth had brought and by the time Tim was starting to feel hungry again, they heard the front door open. 

"Looks like Bruce is home. Which means it's dinner time, you hungry?" Dick asked, stretching up from the couch in a well practiced motion.

"Mhm, are you going to take me home now?" Tim asked, following Dick to the door.

"No?" Dick looked at him confused, putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him downstairs, "you'll be eating with us. If that's fine with you?"

That was more than fine with Tim. If anything, that sounded  _ amazing _ .

"No that's fine, thank you." 

_ Nice, sound composed. Don't let him know you're screaming like a fanboy inside. _

Downstairs, they met up with Mr. Pennyworth and Mr. Wayne at a large dinner table. It was big enough to sit at least 8, but it was only the four of them there.

"Hello, boys. How was school today?" Mr. Wayne asked, and Dick got straight to telling him how unfair math was and what a punishment to society it was.

"And your day, Tim?"

"It was okay. What about yours?" Tim asked, leaning back to give Mr Pennyworth room to put a plate down in front of him. It held all sorts of home cooked foods and Tim could practically feel himself start to drool. 

"The office was the same, just as boring as usual. You know, Dick doesn't ask me about my day," Mr. Wayne said, shooting a joking frown towards Dick. 

"It's cause I know it's boring! You never do anything cool," Dick defended himself, tossing his hands in the air. 

Mr. Pennyworth took a seat at the table as well, his own plate sat before him. "I've come to find Master Timothy is much more polite than I'm used to."

"Hey!" Two sets of voices whined, and Tim laughed into his hand, hiding a big grin. 

As they ate, Mr. Wayne and Dick talked about different things, with Mr. Pennyworth dropping bits of sass here and there. Tim ate as much as he could, but his plate had been piled high and he couldn’t finish more than a quarter of it.

"Was the meal not to your tastes?" Mr. Pennyworth asked after the others had cleared their plates.

"No! That's not it, it was really good, I promise! Your food is great, Mr. Pennyworth, I'm just not used to eating so much," Tim explained, hoping they wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"I suppose we'll have to get you used to a big meal," Mr. Wayne laughed, grabbing his plate and heading into one of the adjacent rooms. Tim assumed he was going to the kitchen to clean his plate, and was about to do the same when Mr. Pennyworth stopped him. 

"You are a growing boy. I'll find something you're more inclined to eat next time, you'll need more to make sure you grow. Sit, I'll handle your dishes," the old man went to grab his and Dicks plates. 

"Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Call me Alfred, I'm sure you've noticed the Masters do."

"Oh, okay. Um, thank you Mr. Alfred."

"Ah. We'll work on it." 

Alfred disappeared into the kitchen, and Dick got up from the table as well. "Alright kiddo, it's getting late. Are you ready to head home?"

Tim nodded and got up and made his way to the door, putting his shoes on as did Dick. They headed to the car and sat in a comfortable silence for most of it. When they pulled up into the driveway, Dick stopped him before he could jump out.

"Thanks for staying til' dinner, Timmy. I hope things are comfortable for you, I know new environments and sitters and such can be weird at first. But, I'm hoping we will come to know and trust each other like real friends," and with a last hair ruffle, he let Tim go.

"Thanks, Dick, g'night!" Tim called, heading up the steps to his home.

Inside, Tim let himself run wild, running up and down the steps, into and out of random rooms, he yelled and cried out and jumped around, letting all his energy bubble out. 

He couldn't believe how amazing today was, and that he'd be having more days like it.

_ And best of all, Robin wants to be MY friend! _

Feeling like he had helium lifting him ten feet off the ground, Tim headed up to get ready for bed, enthusiastic for whatever the coming days held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow, sure do love future brothers bonding


	3. Scratched Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim goes batwatching, gets knocked over, cooks with Alfred, and plays NES. Oh, and more dnd talk

Tim sat on the edge of his bed, pulling on some socks. Pushing up, he collected his night bag, making sure it had band-aids, flashlights, small snacks, and plenty of film for his camera.

Tim felt almost giddy, it'd been almost two weeks since he'd gone out batwatching. He couldn't last week thanks to his parents, and this week he was with Dick. That was still crazy to think about, just imagining the past week made Tim happy. 

Every day Dick was over early to drive him to school, they'd talk about their mornings or school life, then in the afternoon Dick would pick him up from school. On Wednesday, Dick had even stopped to take him out for ice cream before heading back to the Wayne Manor! He bought Tim triple chocolate brownie flavor and laughed when Tim whined about how sweet it was.

And on Thursday they had played outside and Tim tried to teach Dick how to skateboard! Dick fell a lot. Over and over. But he kept getting back up and promised Tim he was a good teacher.

And today, they'd helped Alfred in the kitchen after dinner, the older gentleman had allowed them to come in and work on baking pies with him! Dick and Tim made a bit of a mess, the mess was actually quite large but Dick swore it wasn't as bad as when Bruce tried to help in the kitchen.

Tim had to take a shower and get changed and Dick loaned him some clothes. Tim was still wearing the shirt Dick let him borrow, he told Tim to bring it by tomorrow, but Tim almost wondered if he could get away with "forgetting it at home".

It was a soft, old and worn shirt with a faint logo on the front. Wearing it made Tim think of Dick and feel like... It felt like they were friends, or even brothers. Ives and his brother had swapped shirts before, sometimes not even intentionally.

But Tim had to give it back, he couldn't keep it, it wasn't his and Dick wasn't his brother. They didn't live together and keeping it at his house meant Dick couldn't get it back, and that would be mean of Tim.

Back to the present, Tim tugged a large hoodie over his head. He grabbed his camera, fastening it around his neck, took his bag, and headed downstairs. He made sure all doors were locked before heading out towards town. He kept his bike by the entrance to his house, easier access mostly. Tim hopped on, starting the ride down to town. He'd leave his bike by the closest bus stop, hidden in the bushes, before taking the bus deeper into Gotham. He'd learned from experience that biking into downtown Gotham and leaving his bike unattended to take pictures usually led to his bike being stolen.

Luckily the bus ride was short, and it was usually only him and a few others ever on it. It would drop him off just outside the Narrows. He knew Batman and Robin's parole route, and their backup parole routes, by heart, and on the third Friday of the month, they should be starting here.

Tim made sure to keep track of what was going on around him before scurrying up one of the near buildings fire ladders. Heading to the roof, he made sure to stick to the shadows to wait.

Right around the fifteen minute mark, he saw a streak of color. Readying his camera, he followed the yellow cape. He wasn't as good at fast paced travel before he started following Batman and Robin, but with practice and a parkour class, he'd managed to cultivate the ability to do a smidge of roof hopping.

He didn't have to go far, Robin stopped soon enough, Batman right beside him, as they cornered some crooks. The guys had guns, and a lot of them, and Tim wasn't sure what crimes they had committed, but he was gonna make sure he got their beat down on film.

The party soon got into full swing, Batman taking out guys two at a time and Robin knocking fools on their asses like no one's business! Tim's camera was snapping as quickly as possible, trying to keep up and catch the perfect shot. 

It was over all too soon, the bad guys knocked around and tied down for the police, and Batman and Robin vanished into the night. Tim would follow them some more, try to get some more pictures, and not before long, he'd be back on his way home.

It was the trip home that tripped him up. Quite literally. A boy about twice Tim's side knocked into him, pushing him out the way. Tim landed with an  _ oof _ against the ground and rolled to get back to his feet. He wasn't much prepared for a fight, but there was no way he was just gonna settle for being pummeled. 

"Watch it!"

"Shut it, kid!" The other boy, looking quite familiar to Tim, but then again Gotham was known for its dark hair what with no sun, didn't stop running. Soon he was too far away for Tim to make him out in the dark.

Just as he got up, a man ran into him, sending him flying back to the concrete. His knees were definitely cut up and bleeding now, but Tim was more worried for his camera. 

The guy chased after the kid from before, not even acknowledging Tim, so Tim called quits. He wasn't gonna win this one, so he put a little band-aid on his knee, and got up to make it back to the bus stop.

_ Assholes need to watch where they're going. _

Tim grumbled, making sure his camera was okay. There was a new scuff on the side, but no real damage. He was kind of worried for the kid, but seeing as the man was so far behind, he was sure the brat would be okay. Running as fast as he was, who knows maybe he was the next Flash in the making.

On the bus ride to the manor, Tim was quiet. Getting his bike and riding back to his house, he was quiet. Opening the door to the huge estate, finding it perfectly open and empty, everything was quiet.

"I never realized just how silent everything is until now. Wish Dick was here, he sure knows how to talk," Tim mumbled, thinking over one of the school yard stories Dick had told him. In the bathroom, Tim got some first aid rubbing alcohol and cleaned up his knees before reapplying his band-aids.

It was late and he was tired, so he'd check his camera tomorrow. For now, he put on some pajama pants and fell into bed, leaving on the shirt Dick got him.

Morning came early, with a rude awakening from the home phone. Tim groggily made his way to it, still half asleep.

He answered with a weak, "hello?"

"Timothy. I'm glad you're awake." 

Well that woke him up. 

"Oh, hello mom." 

"Enough with the small talk, how are things with the Wayne's?"

_ Wonderful, amazing, perfect. _

"Things are well. I've seen them all everyday this week."

"Everyday?" 

"Yes, Dick takes me to their home after school, and I eat dinner with them."

He heard conversation on the other side of the phone, his mom was probably discussing something with his dad.

"Timothy, I have something you need to do for me and your father." 

"Yes ma'am?" 

"I need you to make sure this works out. You can not mess this up. Get as close to Bruce Wayne as possible. Mention your father and I's trips whenever you can. We have big plans for deals with him."

"Deals?" Tim wet his lips, wary of where this was going. 

"Yes. We're hoping to convince him to sign a contract with our company."

"So, I just need to be nice to him?" 

"More than that, are you listening?" 

The phone sounded like it was being passed around and soon his dad's voice came over the speaker. "Hey buddy!"

"Hi dad."

"You hear what your mom said? About making a deal with Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes sir, I'm supposed to mention your trips and be nice and make sure he likes me." 

"That's it, sport. Now listen, if you can, and I know you will, you're a good boy, find out what you can about the old Wayne? Anything personal can be used later, right bud?"

Tim couldn't answer. 

"Good good, well just make sure to be behaved and... Try not to act too much like... Don't be childish. Pretend you're your mother or I when you go to see them, yea? And don't mention any of that fruity wizards and geeks shit to them. Show them you're a man, ask 'em about baseball!"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy. I'll see you later, chum."

Before Tim could ask when,  _ when was later _ , his dad had already hung up. Feeling much more empty than before, Tim got changed, folding up the shirt Dick gave him to return later, and made his way downstairs.

Going to grab some cereal, there was a knock on the door. Carefully, he peaked out the door. Seeing it was Alfred, he quickly pulled open the door all the way and stepped back for the man. 

"Good morning, Master Tim."

"Good morning, Alfred," Tim greeted a bit embarrassedly. He was in another Wizards and Warlocks shirt and after what his father said, he was starting to feel a bit dumb. 

"You look well this morning, have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet." 

"Well then, may I invite you to dine with Masters Bruce and Dick?" Alfred smiled warmly down at him, and Tim couldn't resist smiling back.

"Yes, I would like that! I uh, I'll have to grab my shoes and get changed!" 

"Changed? Those don't look like sleeping clothes." 

_ Ooooooh can't lie to Alfred, Tim what's the back up plan? _

"I should put on something nicer, I think, for coming to see you all?" Tim tried, a blush creeping onto his cheeks and making him feel even more embarrassed. 

"Nonsense, I'm sure the young masters will join us looking much more disheveled. Run along and grab your shoes, it shouldn't be a long ride back to the manor," Alfred assured, and Tim nodded, leaving the door open for the man as he rushed to do as told.

In the car with Alfred, he had to sit in the backseat, but it was just as comfortable as trips with Dick. They didn't say much besides Alfred commenting on how well the flowers were growing in.

When they arrived, Tim didn't give Alfred the chance to open the door for him, and popped out the car excitedly. Alfred shook his head, but he was still smiling so Tim didn't think he was all that upset. Inside, Tim noticed it was still quiet. He didn't hear Bruce or Dick talking from anywhere.

"I hope you don't mind, the masters are still asleep it seems. They should be up soon." 

"It's okay, can I help you with anything while we wait?" Tim asked, toeing his shoes off.

The butler seemed to think it over before agreeing, "I trust you won't make a mess of the kitchen again if I let you assist me with breakfast?"

Tim laughed, "I can try? And if I make a mess, I promise to clean up!" 

"Very well, come along then."

In the kitchen, Tim helped cut fruits and make pancake batter, however Alfred didn't let him anywhere near the stove. After he finished his food duties, he set the table and went to fill everyone's cups with water when a sleepy Dick Grayson made his way into the dining room.

"Oh hey Timmy," Dick said through a yawn, "sleep well?"

"Mhm, how about you?" 

" _ Great _ , I got this new mattress and it feels like a cloud," Dick laughed, slumping into his chair. Tim headed back to the kitchen to put away the water pitcher and see what else Alfred may need.

"Have the Terrible Two arrived?"

Tim snickered behind his hand, nodding, "Dick is out there, Bruce isn't though." He accepted when Alfred gave him two cups of coffee to take out to the table. 

"Feel free to take a seat, I'll bring out the plates in a moment," Alfred told him and nudged him towards the door. Setting one of the cups of coffee in front of Dick, the boy looked at him like he was a miracle worker. As if on cue, Bruce wandered into the room right after Tim dropped off his coffee. Looking like a big, sleepy cat, Mr. Wayne hunched into his seat and held onto his mug like a lifeline.

"Good morning, Tim. I was wondering why breakfast was so early."

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you up," Tim worried his lip. He really didn't want to cause trouble. 

"It's no problem, the early bird gets the worm. How was your night?"

"Good." 

_ Tim, child of a thousand words. God, I'm as interesting as the back of a shampoo bottle. _

"Oh, Tim! I told Wally about the campaign!" Dick seemed much more awake now, looking a lot more like the acrobat and here Tim knew he was. 

"O-oh?"

"Yea, Bruce you should join too!" 

"Join a campaign?"

"Yea, Tim was telling me how he's dm'd for his friends before and said if I ever wanted to play he could help me out. I got Wally in on it, where are you?"

Tim felt dread fill him, his parents words suddenly coming back and weighing down on him ten fold. Looking at Bruce, he hoped the man didn't cringe away from Tim's childishness. 

_ Why did Dick have to bring this up? Why couldn't he just forget! _

"You don't have to, I didn't even think Dick would actually want to-" 

"Well if the offer’s on the table, sure. I could probably convince Clark to come over too, if you wouldn't mind?" Bruce asked.

"Uncle Clark? Oh, he would love this," Dick added.

"I mean, if you guys really want to, we can?" Tim squeaked out, his whole body stiff.

"It sounds like a lovely time, thank you for the invite, Tim."

"Wally's already planning his character, I told him to slow down but he never listens. He can't wait to meet you," Dick told him, smiling.

Alfred came in with their plates then and started to place them down, giving Tim a moment to take that in and  _ wow okay Dick has talked about me to his friends _ .

"I can't wait to meet him," Tim finally settled on, staring down at his plate. Despite how childish Wizards and Warlocks was, Dick, Bruce and their  _ friends _ wanted to play. Maybe his dad was wrong? Maybe he could still impress Mr. Wayne like this?

He'd figure something out, he couldn't let his parents down, but he didn't want to stray from Dick and Bruce either. Eating breakfast, he was swamped in thoughts of a new campaign, his parents wanting him to talk to Bruce, stuck on deciding to follow his parents wants or his own, and the sounds of Dick and Bruce chatting about the intricacies of whoever Clark was.

Tim wasn't stupid, he knew his parents wanted to use him and his new connection to the Waynes. They weren't good at hiding their intentions, if they were trying to hide them. Tim recognized he was supposed to be retelling them all of Bruce Wayne's dirty little secrets. But he couldn't. He wanted to make his parents happy, he always wanted them to be proud of him and what he could do, but he couldn't deliberately investigate Bruce Wayne.

Since he'd started to join the family, all they had ever done was treat him well. They fed him, talked to him, asked him about his day, fuck, Dick even went out and played with him! To betray them would feel like stabbing his family in the back, even if they weren't his real family. 

It was his real family that gave him the knife.

So he couldn't intentionally do it. But if Mr. Wayne happened to accidentally spill some confidential information, he supposed he could relay a part of it to his parents. 

"Tim?"

"Huh?" Tim looked up to see Dick, Bruce, and Alfred all watching him. "Alfred asked if you were full?" Dick asked, pointing to Tim's half covered plate.

With his stomach in knots, he couldn't eat anymore, and nodded his head. "Sorry, I know you want me to clear my plate." 

"No point in apologizing, Tim. You don't need to make yourself sick," Bruce chuckled, patting him on the shoulder before getting up to help take the plates to the kitchen with Alfred. 

"Hey Tim, wanna come see what Bruce got me?" Dick asked, already getting up and shooting off towards the steps. With a shouted "thanks for breakfast" towards the kitchen, Tim dashed off to keep up with Robin. Following him to one of the rooms near the library, Tim found himself in a room with a huge television and shelves of DVDs. On the couch in front of the giant screen sat a smirking Dick.

"Welcome to the movie room! With it's newest addition!" He waved his hands towards the ground in front of the television, revealing a brand new NES. 

"Whoa! You already managed to get one?" Tim asked, hurrying to sit down next to Dick on the couch. 

"Yep! Perks of living with Bruce Wayne. So, wanna play?" Dick passed him a controller and the two soon got invested into the game on screen. About an hour into playing, Dick set his controller down, sitting back onto the plush seats. Tim followed suit, looking over at Dick.

"TimBit, where'd you get the scabby knees from?" Dick asked, pointing to the bandages on Tim's knees.

_ Oh some asshole knocked me over while I was out watching you and Batman. Typical Friday. _

"I fell at school yesterday," Tim lied.

"Huh, but I didn't see any scratches on you yesterday when I picked you up?" 

_ Whoops. Plan B! _

"Oh well um..."

_ Wait, we don't have a Plan B!? _

"Did something happen, Tim?" Dick asked, looking more serious.

"No! I seriously just fell, Dick, it's okay!" Dick didn't look convinced and stared him down a moment longer before giving in.

"Okay, but if anything happens, you can tell me. I'm here for you Tim, I don't want you getting hurt." 

"Thanks, Dick, but I'm okay." 

"Good, cause if you get all roughed up on my watch and your parents find out, I'll be fired for sure," Dick laughed, going back to joking around. He grabbed his controller and started the game back up, passing Tim his controller in the process.

"Yea right! Now stop cheating, you can't turn it on when I'm not ready," Tim whined, glad the moment was over.

Things were normal after that, and Tim hoped they'd stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man i love dnd   
> who needs plot when you have bonding?


	4. Zoo Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Dick go to a zoo, Tim cries bc idk hes 10. After a nice nap, he gets to meet Wally. oh and Dick flirts with a random teen working at the zoo.

"Ooh, Tim, look at these!" Tim was ushered to the large glass wall blocking him from the animals inside. Otters were doing flips and tricks in the water, coming up to the glass to see the people watching.

"Look," Dick grabbed his hand and pressed it to the glass, his grin growing when one of the otters followed the moment and nudged the glass under Tim's palm. 

Tim bit his lip, unsure if he wanted to watch the animals or Dick's reactions. He'd never seen someone so captured by such acts before. Then again, he'd only been to the zoo once before, so that may be why. 

It was actually Tim's lack of zoo trips that prompted this one with Dick. Bruce,  _ Mr. Wayne, show respect, sheesh _ , had been discussing his recent donation to the Gotham Zoo when Tim mentioned he'd only been once before on a school trip. 

Dick had acted like it was the most upsetting thing in the world, all the more distraught when Tim said he hadn't gotten to see the elephants. He'd promised Tim that by next Saturday, they'd be visiting the newly renovated and cleaned zoo.

Tim had spent all week waiting for it, he wasn't interested in the animals so much as having a trip out with Dick. It was fun to visit the manor but sitting in the game room and library got old after awhile. And Tim hadn't been introduced to any other rooms besides the kitchen and dining room, so he didn't have much to do at this point when he came over. 

That didn't mean he didn't have fun though, all week Dick kept him on his toes with new activities. He'd been teaching Tim to do handstands and other tricks now too. 

The only downside was, Tim was starting to suspect Dick knew something was up with his parents. He'd been slowly asking questions about them, when they'd be home, where they were, did they leave a lot? All  _ small _ things, at least for now.

Tim hoped Dick didn't somehow catch on that his parents wanted a chunk of Wayne Enterprise, but with him being Robin, anything was possible. But instead of letting it tear him up, he looked towards the zoo trip to keep him happy. 

And now they were finally here. Dick was making sure to take him to each and every single habitat, not one animal could be missed. Tim was starting to adore the animals himself, he understood the zoo hype now. Especially with the big cats, seeing a lion in person was way different than TV. 

"Ready to see the elephants?" Dick asked, tugging him into the present.

"Mhm," Tim nodded, letting himself be dragged along as Dick stared down at an overly complicated zoo map.

"They're my favorite, Timmy, you'll love them. I just know it," Dick promised. They reached the exhibit and Dick was instantly against the railing, staring out over the large yard. Tim joined him, doing his best to see over the wood fence that held people back.

"Oh, lemme help you, buddy," Dick picked him up,  _ Robin is holding me like a fucking baby, why can't I just vanish _ , and held Tim against his hip. Tim held on tight, unsure of how this was supposed to go. However the hold did give him the view he wanted, as the elephants slowly made their way through their habitat.

Dick was quiet a long while, the two watching in silence. 

Then he broke with a wet chuckle. "You know, I actually used to know an elephant? Several, actually. One, Zitka, was one of my best friends."

"Oh, at the circus?" Tim asked, cringing at himself.  _ Great one, Tim. Fucking fantastic comforting method. _

Dick laughed again, but it felt even more forced, "yea, at the circus. How'd you know about that?" 

He looked genuinely curious and Tim wasn't sure what to say. The truth? And risk upsetting Dick more? Or a lie about the media mentioning it when Dick was taken in by Bruce Wayne?

Tim sighed, "I went once." 

Dick looked surprised, but held off on another question for a moment to instead look at an elephant pass. "You must have been young?"

"I was four."

"Do you remember well?" 

"Very," too much so. He had nightmares for a year after the incident. His parents never believed him, but sometimes he thought his mom had nightmares about it too. She hated when Tim would bring it up. 

"Oh yeah? What was your favorite part?" Dick had a watery smile that made Tim feel bad and hurt in a way he didn't understand.

"I liked... I liked meeting you? We took a photo together, you said you'd do a flip, just for me." Dicks face broke, and for a moment, Tim thought he might cry. Tensing in his arms, Tim was surprised when he was pulled closer, his head being tucked under Dicks chin.

"You'll have to show me the picture, I'm sure it'll jog my memory."

Tim awkwardly moved his arms to hug Dick back, nodding as best he could. 

After a few more moments watching the life in front of them, they made their way back to the main path. Dick still hadn't put Tim down yet, and Tim wasn't sure how to properly ask why the fuck he was still being carried.

"Hungry? I could go for an overpriced zoo meal," Dick joked. 

"Yea, I could probably eat one of the zebras by now," Tim told him, and steeled his face to look as serious as possible.

When Dick broke out in laughter, he followed, snorting into his hand and tucking his face against Dick's shoulder. They soon arrived at a jungle themed restaurant with a short enough line and waited to order.

"Hey Tim, you have to get the kids PB&J," Dick told him.

"What, why?"

"Because it comes in a little lunchbox shaped like a monkey's head!"

"So?"

Dick gasped, "so? So it's super cute! Are you serious right now?" 

Tim rolled his eyes, "if you think it's so cute, you get it." 

"No way! I eat too much. You're the one who has like four bites of bread a day and calls it good! C'mon, for me?" Dick pleaded. 

"Fine, but you order it," Tim grumbled, turning away from the ever approaching cash register. True to his word, after getting his own meal, Dick ordered a kids meal for Tim. 

"Aw, it's so cute to see such close brothers," the boy behind the register gushed, and Tim wanted to hide under a rock, "did the little guy get all tired out?"

Dick chuckled, "you know, I actually had to trick him into letting me carry him. He's pretty stubborn." 

"That's so sweet, how old is he? Seven?" 

Tim's head shot around, glaring at the worker, "I'm ten!" 

Dick snickered, trying to hide it against Tim's hair, and the worker just outright laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How about I add an extra cookie to your meal? Will that make up for it?"

"Deal," Dick answered before Tim could tell him a polite  _ fuck no _ .

They got their food quickly enough after that, with a bit more yuck flirting between the cashier and Dick. Thankfully, Tim was returned to his own feet and got to work settling into his seat, popping open his lunchbox.

"See! It's a monkey, isn't he cute?"

"Uh huh." 

"Aw, don't pout. I'm sure the cashier was just thrown off because you were looking away? He didn't see your face, hard to judge age by hair!" 

"Mhm," Tim was determined to ignore this until it went away. Even if that meant ignoring Robin.

"Okay okay, fine, subject change," Dick stuck his tongue out, reaching over to steal a chip from Tim, "have you heard from your parents recently?" 

_ Well not since last Saturday when they told me to dig up information on your kind-of dad. _

"They called last week." 

"Yea? What do you guys talk about?" Dick asked, snatching some more of Tim's chips.

"Cut that out! I don't know, we talk about whatever."

"Like what whatever? School? Did they tell you when they'll be home?"

"Hm, they asked me how I was, and told me all out their trip. And they asked me about school and helped me with some English homework. Then they told me to be nice to you and Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth. Then they told me they loved me and hung up," Tim lied easily enough.

Dick hummed, "oh, they sound nice. Are you guys close?" 

_ Close? They're my parents. _

"Of course." Tim said with certainty. 

"So even if they're far away, you trust them with important stuff?"

"Yea, and they trust me too, they give me tasks from time to time," Tim supplied a bit proudly. How many other kids had parents that could rely on them?

"Ooooh so you're the real bread winner of the family huh," Dick joked, "what do they ask you to do? Trim all the shrubs in the garden? Infiltrate opposing companies with your tiny lil baby smile? Or is it more like 'Tim don't throw a party this weekend'." 

Tim stopped eating, feeling like he was going to throw up. His hand was shaking as he set down his sandwich. Dick knew. Somehow he and Bruce had found out about Tim's parents asking him to butter up the Wayne's and get their approval. They knew and now Dick was trying to ask about it nicely and Tim was going to be sick.

"Hey, buddy what's wrong? I was joking, I know you wouldn't throw a party," now Dick was reaching over the table and holding Tim's hand and Tim thought he might cry. 

He was going to lose this. His new friend, Robin, and Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth and visits to the manor, and car rides to school, and ice cream trips, and going to the zoo. He wasn't going to hear Dicks stories about weird friends or the circus or Zitka, it was over.

"I-I'm sorry," Tim bit out, holding back more emotions than he was prepared for. 

Dick was on his side of the table in an instant, holding onto Tim by the shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He rubbed a hand up and down Tim's back, and Tim leaned into his chest, wishing he'd never have to let go. 

The past two weeks of his life had been better than the previous 10 years. To lose it all over his parents wanting more stocks? His whole being ached with unshed tears.

"Shh, it's okay. Timmy, it's okay, what's wrong buddy?"

"I'm sorry." 

"You didn't do anything, Tim, there's nothing to apologize for. What made you cry?" Dick was practically whispering to him, trying to keep the rest of the restaurant out of their business.

"You're mad at me." 

"No, why would I be mad at you? Timmy, it's okay. I'm sorry I was asking about your parents, it's okay, we don't have to talk about them right now," Dick reassured, pulling Tim back just enough to look into his eyes. Tim wanted to hold on tighter, upset at the movement and straining to hold in his sobs when he met Dick's eyes.

"Listen, Timmy, you've done nothing wrong. I don't know what upset you, but it's okay. We don't have to talk about your parents, I promise, but if somethings wrong, you can tell me. I don't wanna step on your toes or mention something that will hurt you, okay?"

Tim sniffled, nodding. "It's okay, you didn't do anything, Dick." 

Dick let out a weak laugh, looking startled," I can't believe you're comforting me. Timmy, you're insane. Now gimme a big hug, then we can finish up eating and head home, how's that sound?" 

Tim agreed, hugging Dick as tightly as he could. Wrapped up, he felt like all his fears were squished out of him, leaving nothing but the warmth from Dick's hug.

They ate their lunches normally after that, Dick not mentioning Tim's sniffles and red eyes and Tim not whining too much when Dick stole one of his cookies. On the walk back to Dick's car, Dick held his hand tight and walked slow with him, letting Tim's shorter legs finally catch a break. The car ride was less eventful, and Tim felt so sleepy. 

Before he knew it he was at the manor, being carried in by Dick.

"Hey sleeping beauty, you enjoy the nap?"

"Mnghhh."

"I'll take that as a 'let me go back to sleep' whine," Dick tried not to jostle him as he opened the door, "don't worry, I want a nap too." 

Tim wasn't fully awake for the walk, but they eventually ended up at a bedroom. Tim was certain it wasn't Dick's, as there wasn't much character on the walls and the room seemed too clean for someone like Dick. He was being tucked into the softest blanket he'd ever felt, and Dick leaned down, enveloping him in one last hug before slipping out the room.

Tim wasn't sure how long he slept, but by the time he woke up, he was more than refreshed. Questioning what woke him didn't take long, as the door soon opened to Alfred.

"Ah, there you are Master Timothy. When Dick said he put you to bed I was unaware he meant Master Bruce's bed." 

_ Batman's bed? The Batman... His bed?!? With a plush purple blanket? I slept in that bed?! _

"Don't fret, he won't mind. I've been informed by Master Dick that Master Bruce has the comfiest bed in the manor by far," Alfred told him, straightening the bed up after Tim slid off it.

"Oh, okay. I'll, um, I'll have to thank him later. His bed is really soft," Tim agreed. 

"You can thank him at dinner. We're having pot roast, you'll want to hurry down and get some before the others eat it all," Alfred said jovially.

"Oh shoot," Tim muttered, already headed to the door. A quick run down the steps led him to the living room, and he dashed to the dining room fast as he could. 

"Timbo! I saved you a potato!" Dick peaked over at him, smiling wide. 

"That's it!?" Tim asked, hurrying to the table and frowning when he saw the serving plate still had plenty of food. 

"Yep, that and plenty of other potatoes." Tim got himself a plate of food, starting on his meal. In just two weeks of staying with the Wayne's he had developed a bigger appetite. It was a shame he only ate dinner with them cause his morning cereal was starting to not shape up to Alfred's amazing cooking.

"So Tim, you enjoy the zoo? Dick was telling me you liked the horses?" Bruce asked, looking at him from the head of the table.

"Yea, it was cool seeing all the animals so close. I just wish they had more space."

"Hm, I'll look into that," Bruce mumbled, looking like he'd already started planning something.

"You should've seen the otters, Bruce, they loved Tim," Dick added.

"They loved everyone there," Tim nudged Dick's leg with his foot, trying to cut off his embarrassing line of thinking. 

"No no, seriously, they were watching Tim and they came out to see him! The whole nine yards, B!"

"I'm sure, Dick, otters are quite personable." 

Tim groaned, rolling his eyes, ignoring the other twos’ laughs.

"By the way, Tim, I was going to call my friend tonight. You remember Wally?" 

"...yes?"

Dick looked pleased and Tim wanted to fist bump the air. "Well, I wanted to know if you wanted to meet him? I'd take you home right after, I promise, but he says I talk too much about you to not let you both meet already." 

_ Robin wants me to meet his friends, Robin wants me to meet his friends! Say it again, Tim, it's real!! _

"That would be nice." 

"Awesome! You'll love him, he's smart like you, even if he's kind of dumb." 

Tim choked on his meal, coughing into his hand while Mr. Wayne reprimanded Dick.

"Sorry Tim, I meant Wally was dumb, not you, I swear," Dick amended, and Tim waved him off with a 'it's okay'.

After dinner, Dick took Tim to the library, coming back quickly with his laptop. The call wasn't super long, but Tim met Wally. He seemed nice, a red head with lots of freckles and a goofy smile. Dick seemed to like him a lot, he smiled so wide the whole call, Tim was worried his jaw was gonna hurt after.

Wally was nice to him, telling him embarrassing stories about Dick and asking him about a future Wizards and Warlocks campaign. Tim found himself liking the older kid, and he could understand why Dick said he was his best friend.

_I wonder if he knows Dick is Robin? Would Dick tell him? Would Dick ever... Tell me?_ _Tim don't get your hopes up, come the fuck on, Dick's got more important matters than putting the fate of his identity in a ten year olds hands!_

After the call, Dick did take him home. He wished Tim a goodnight and gave him a big hug, and though Tim thought his human contact meter had been filled for the day, the hug was still nice.

Laying in bed, Tim let the anxiety and excitement and fun of the day seep off of him. Despite thinking that Dick had found him and his parents out, everything seemed fine. Tim wasn't sure if he actually knew it if he really was joking, but at least everything was normal enough again. 

Turning over in bed to stare at the camera on his desk, Tim went to sleep with thoughts of Batman and elephants and his parents' empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story may decline in quality as it becomes more ooc and dumb, but at least it has tiny tim cussing. anyways im almost done with chapter 5, were close to being halfway thru


	5. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Tim have a sleepover. Also some of Tim's realizations about how the Wayne family acts like family. Plenty of rough housing.

Time was moving so much faster nowadays. Tim had never felt like his life had this much motion too it before now. He used to only really look forward to batwatching, playing with his friends every now and then, and seeing his parents.

But now he had things to do after he got home from school. No more sitting in his parents house with all the lights off but his rooms. No more eating awful college kid food or instant meals. No more sitting alone in front of his desktop, catching up on any Batman news he could because he rather watched someone else's life.

Now he had Dick and Mr. Wayne and Alfred. He had somewhere to be after school, somewhere he was expected to be. If he wasn't on time to get picked up after school, he now had a very worried sitter who'd hurry into the school and embarrass him with an intercom message asking where he was. Or if he missed breakfast and needed a snack, he had a load of snacks waiting for him in Alfred's kitchen. And if he was tired after being out playing with friends or Dick, he was somehow always carried from the couch and would wake to being in the softest bed in the whole manor- and Tim was starting to suspect, with a little sneakiness, that it wasn't Dick carrying him to bed every time, rather someone much more  _ Batman _ like.

So Tim's life had been on a speed run recently, a whole month had passed under this new schedule. He'd also received more calls from his parents than ever before. After the first call, he received another just 15 days later. It was very similar to the first, though with a lot more berating at Tim's lack of new information on what makes Bruce Wayne tick.

He hadn't realized how upset the call made him until Dick and Bruce ended up having an ice cream day with him, claiming "you could make a grown man cry with how sad you look".

Tim's life had turned around so drastically, sometimes he wasn't sure how to feel. Or how to react. It was weird to be friends with someone like Dick, because he thrived on contact and Tim had never had so much before in his life. Mr. Wayne was easier, usually, he was distant but was still friendly.

Except with Dick. With Dick, Mr. Wayne would act silly and fun and wouldn't hold back so much with affection. They two would rough house- Tim had seen Bruce  _ throw _ Dick, and Dick landed perfectly fine and tackled the man in return. And they would hug, usually initiated by Dick but not always. Bruce was also always proud of Dick, it seemed. 

Even when Dick got a 64 on his mid-year report card, Mr. Wayne just smiled and told him good job. The last time Tim had gotten below a B and his parents found out, he had been grounded for a week. And that was after a screaming match with his dad.

It was words too, Bruce always asked Dick about his day. And his weekend plans, and where he'd be going at night, and how his friends were, and anything Tim could think of. 

Even though Tim knew Dick was only Bruce's ward, he had a feeling Mr. Wayne saw him as much more than that. The two were so much like the dad and son in movies, it hurt Tim to watch sometimes. And he was almost certain Dick saw Bruce as a father figure too, he even swore he'd heard Dick trip up and almost call Bruce dad before too. 

The Wayne family, including Alfred, always including Alfred, were perfect. Or as perfectly imperfect as Tim could imagine a family could be. They had their moments, arguments and bickering and such, especially with Dick’s temper, but overall it was so... Calm? Domestic? 

_ Loving. _

Tim and his parents could never hope to achieve a relationship like Bruce and Dick's or even one like Bruce and Alfred's. And that was okay! Tim knew his parents were busy and couldn't call and ask him about his day every afternoon! But he also couldn't help but want something like what they had. 

Pulled from his thoughts by his alarm going off, Tim rolled out of bed and clicked it to shut it up. It was Thursday, and Tim had school even if he wished he could skip it. Sadly he had to get ready, as much as a fucking crime school at 7:00 AM should be. 

Passing his camera, he ran his finger over the scuff on its corner. He'd gone out watching a few more times, but he'd never encountered the boy again. And luckily he hadn't seen the man again either. 

Getting dressed and eating breakfast was the usual process, and right on time, Dick was knocking at the door. Slipping on his shoes and backpack, he opened it and followed the other to his car, exchanging good mornings on the way. Dick always let him sit up front, even if Bruce and Alfred didn't, and usually he appreciated it. 

"So Timmy, I was thinking, how about a sleepover? We can stay at your house, no Alfred to make us go to bed early! And I can teach you how to make s’mores, and you can help me set up my character sheet for our campaign?"

But at times like these, Tim wishes he was in the backseat so he could have an appropriate freak out without being as seen. 

"A sleepover?"

"Yea, if you'd want one? And, it could be at the manor if that's what you're skeptical about! We don't have to stay at your house," Dick reassured.

"No no, my house is fine that wasn't it... Um, I don't have the stuff to make s’mores?" Tim didn't have a lot of stuff. More specifically, he was lacking a brain.

He was going to have Robin at his house! For a whole night? He wouldn't be sleeping alone Ina huge house, no no no, he'd have Robin on a cot next to him eating s’mores and talking W&W with him!

_ Oh, Tim, we are dead! If we accept this, there's no topping it. _

"That's fine, we can pick some up. And maybe grab a pizza too, don't tell Alfred though," Dick laughed. 

"Okay. Okay, yea, that sounds good. Can I... Why? Are we having a sleepover?" Tim asked. 

Dick seemed to consider his answer before sighing. "I wanted to hang out! And also maybe check to see how you're doing?"

"You see me almost everyday, Dick. Even when I don't come to the manor after school, you still see me in the morning and afternoon?" 

"Well me and Alfie were talking about how skinny you still are. We're... And I know you can take care of yourself Tim, you're way too independent as is, but we are a little tiny bit worried," Dick confessed.

Tim felt tense.  _ Worried? I’m worrying them? I'm... They sit around talking about how I don't eat enough? _

"Don't look like that! Listen, Timmy, I just wanted to see a day in the life of Tim Drake when you're at home! See the meal plan, experience the night routine, but I also just wanted to have fun, buddy, I promise the main priority is having fun."

Tim bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging. It sucked, feeling like a charity case, like he had to be monitored or something could happen to him. But he was also glad Dick was  _ honest _ . He didn't need Dick or Alfred watching him to see what he ate or how much or when, but it was nice to know they cared.

"Hey, I know it was kind of rude for me to just... Assume. I know you take good care of yourself. If you don't want to have the sleepover anymore, it's okay, 100 percent." Dick swore, pulling into a parking space at the school.

Even now, he parked and waited for Tim to get inside before he'd leave. Tim thought about it, rolling the new information in his head before nodding. 

"I still wanna sleepover, and it can be at my place. Otherwise we can't have pizza."

Dick was smiling again, and he reached over to ruffle Tim's hair and pull him into a side hug. "You're right! It's gonna be fun, Tim, I swear! Me and you, tomorrow night, too much pizza and candy and plenty of Wizards and Warlocks!"

Tim gave a weak cheer, starting to feel better but still a little iffy. Getting out of the car with a goodbye, he made his way into the school. The whole day he couldn't decide how he felt. It was weird, he'd become too caught up in the idea of being Dick's friend, that he forgot Dick was just another babysitter. But even then, he was so much more than a babysitter, and he'd shown it time and time again. Knowing Dick was watching out for what he did was... It was double-edged knowledge.

On one hand he was happy knowing Dick cared enough to worry about him. On the other, it felt belittling. He'd been almost entirely on his own until now, until Dick came into his life. Never before had he had a daily nanny, at least not since he was five. And sure he was only ten, but he knew how to care for himself. He thought the Waynes had seen that. His own parents understood, they'd cut back babysitting adequately as Tim aged, he was sure by next year he'd be on his own if they hadn't found an access to Wayne Enterprise.

So it was weird. It felt bad and good but mostly bad. Tim was sure by the time he was eating smores and planning characters, however, he'd been relaxed enough to forgive and forget.

The silver lining was, Dick had seemed apologetic, and he'd been honest with his ideas. That was more than Tim could ask for, so he was already pretty open to the idea of pretending it wasn't a thing.

Pretending ended up being easy, soon Friday afternoon rolled around and Dick and Tim were pulling into Tim's driveway. The car was full of grocery bags, the two had stopped and picked up  _ way too damn much _ . But any time Tim had looked at something longer than a second, Dick added it to the cart.

And with a hot pizza in his arms, Tim got to watch as Dick struggled to carry all the bags inside at once.

"Home sweet home," Dick bellowed into the empty foyer, his voice echoing beyond the room.

"Shush, you'll wake the ghosts," Tim joked, leading Dick to the kitchen and dining room.

"Haha, real funny. There aren't actual ghosts though, right?" Dick snarked, setting the groceries on the counter. 

"I guess you'll find out," Tim popped the lid to the pizza box open and went to town grabbing a slice. Alfred's food was good, but greasy, limp pizza was a different craving that couldn't be itched with fancy turkey dinners.

"You're awful, Tim, the worst."

"Uh huh."

"Don't sass me! You're supposed to think I'm cool," Dick whined, setting his elbows on Tim's shoulders and leaning onto him.

"Get off, you're heavy! And you'll get pizza in my hair!"

"I am not," Dick laughed, jumping away from little kick attempts from Tim. 

"I'm gonna eat the s'mores without you," Tim threatened.

"You wouldn't, you don't even know how to make a good microwave s'more." 

"Dick, it's a microwave s'more. I can figure it out." Dick pouted, finishing up his slice of pizza before crouching down. 

"What are you do-" Like a spring, Dick pushed up, grabbing Tim on the way. Laughing, he carried Tim over his shoulder into the living room, jumping about and making sure to jostle him as much as possible.

"Say sorry, Timbit! Say you won't even think about eating s'mores without me!" 

"Dick!" Tim screeched, "put me down!" 

"Not until you say the magic words!"

Bouncing around like a sack of potatoes, Tim could barely find words between his fits of laughter and yelling. He smacked his fits against Dick's back quite helplessly, ignoring how it only made the other laugh harder.

"Fine! I'm sorry, you can eat some s'mores! Now put me down!" Tim crashed onto the couch, looking up at a way too happy Dick Grayson. His stomach hurt from laughing and he wasn't sure if he'd be up for more pizza for at least another few minutes after the rough housing, but he felt good. Dick was the only person who'd ever felt comfortable enough or inclined enough to actually grab or hold or rough house or play with Tim, and Tim made sure to value it every time. Even when it involved him being tossed around like a limp noodle.

"You wanna watch a movie?" Tim asked, reaching around to feel for the remote. He didn't have many VHS tapes, but Ive's had loaned him a few animated flicks.

"Sure, you want another slice?" Dick asked, heading back towards the kitchen. 

"Sure," Tim mumbled, hefting himself up to find the remote. 

"'Kay, I'll hunt for some plates too." 

"Third cabinet from the left, bottom shelf." 

The remote wasn't anywhere around the couch, or under it, or on the table.

_ What the fuck. _

"Where the hell is?" Tim grumbled, getting back onto his knees to check under the couch again.

"What you looking for, Timmy?" Dick asked, coming back in and setting two plates down on the table.

"The damn- I mean, the freaking remote."

"Language, big guy!" Dick chided, sounding like he was enjoying himself, "now the remote wouldn't happen to look like this, would it?" Tim turned to look at the older kid, gasping when he held up the remote. 

"You had it? When'd you grab it?"

"A good magician never reveals his secret." 

"I'm going to knock you out," Tim threatened, reaching for the remote. Dick was shocked enough to hand it over easily, before he broke down in laughter, pulling Tim onto the couch with him and giving him a noogie. 

"Yea right! You couldn't get a scratch on me!"

"Dick! Stop!" 

"Oh so you don't deny it?"

"I could! I won't though." 

"Aw, you wouldn't hurt me, Tim?" 

"You're starting to make me change my mind," Tim fumed, trying to fix his hair, "what do you want to watch?"

Dick made his way to the small selection before pulling out film and plugging it into the player himself. Making his way back to the couch he dropped down and almost crushed Tim. 

He'd ended up choosing some Transformers movie, one of Ive's. After turning the lights off, the two got comfy and settled in to watch. It wasn't quiet long, Tim had too many opinions on the film to stay quiet, and Dick seemed keen on getting Tim to elaborate on his opinions as much as possible. They'd finished dinner and at some point Dick had left and returned with some of the candies he'd gotten Tim earlier. All their shifting and talking ended up with Tim's head propped against the arm of the couch and his legs on Dick's lap. 

When the credits started to roll, Dick scooted Tim's legs up and made his way to the VHS player. Without prompting, he grabbed another movie and got it started. When he settled back on the couch, he dropped Tim's legs back onto his as if he'd never moved in the first place. 

They went through two more movies like that, chatting and eating and every now and then Dick flicking Tim's leg or Tim nudging Dick's arm with his foot. It was fun, but it was getting late and Tim could feel his eyelids starting to get heavier.

"Hey buddy, the movies over. You tired?" Dick whispered, leaning over to push the hair off Tim's forehead. 

Tim pried his eyes open, looking at Dick and readjusting to  _ huh what _ .

"You ready for bed, big guy?"

Tim nodded and scooted off the couch, shaking the tiredness out. "We have to set up your bed."

"Ooooh, sleepover in Tim's room? You're not banishing me to a guest room?" Dick asked, clicking the TV off and following behind Tim. 

"No, all the guest rooms are on a different floor than mine. It's annoying," Tim stopped by a linen closet on the way, grabbing mounds of blankets and passing some to Dick. They hobbled up to Tim's room and got to work making a comfy pallet on the floor. 

When it was done, Tim set a few pillows at the top and stepped back to view their job.

"If you want, I can sleep down here and you can take my bed?" Tim offered. 

"Nah, it's okay. I won't steal your bed." Tim made to argue but was cut off by Dick scooping him up and dropping him onto his bed. He made quick work tucking Tim in then dropped back down to his own bed for the night.

"Night, Timmy." 

"G'night, Dick," Tim answered, sleep already tugging him back into unconsciousness.

Something felt off. 

Tim peeled his eyes open, glancing around the dark room. He was definitely in his own room, and he was okay, but something was wrong. 

Sitting up he looked down to see Dick was gone. His blankets were tossed to the side and his pillows strewn about with no sign of where the other had gone.

Shifting out of bed, Tim stepped over Dick's makeshift bed and stumbled out the door. Looking up and down the hallway gave no indication of where Dick may have gone, so he started off downstairs towards the kitchen. 

The kitchen was mostly empty besides their bags of food and the pizza box. The leftover pizza was still out and Tim made quick work of putting it in a baggie to place in the fridge. 

"Did he go home?" Tim mumbled to himself, making his way back up the stairs. He was about to start calling out for the other when he saw Dick emerge from a room. 

"Dick?" The figure jumped before turning around to spot Tim. 

"Ah, Timmy? What are you doing up?"

"I was looking for you."

Dick looked surprised, "oh, I didn't mean to wake you up. Sorry Timbit, let's get back to bed." 

"Were you in my parents room?" Tim asked, coming closer and noticing the room Dick had come from. 

"Is that what that was? No wonder it was so fancy. I was looking for a bathroom," Dick told him, settling a hand on Tim's shoulder and leading him back to bed. 

"Oh! I never told you where the bathroom was!" Tim smacked himself on the forehead, breaking from Dick's pull and making way to show him.

"It's okay, you were pretty sleepy earlier," Dick placated, following Tim to the bathroom.

"No I- okay well, it's here," Tim gestured," I'm sorry if you were looking for long." 

"Not a problem, kiddo. Now how about you run back to bed before you pass out here and now and I gotta carry you back?" Dick joked.

Tim flushed, frowning but agreeing, "okay. My rooms the first door on the left when you leave from here, okay?" 

"I'll remember!" Dick assured.

Tim made his way back to his room, but before going in, he paused and went back to his parents room. He peaked in. Nothing seemed too out of place. Maybe like someone had been in, or maybe not. Shrugging it off, he went back to his room and crawled into the warmth that was his bed.

Come morning, he woke to the sound of Dick snoring. Looking over the edge of the bed, he saw Dick fast asleep, drooling grossly on his pillow. Tim sat back, reaching around on his bed to grab the pillow he'd kept.

Dragging it over to the edge, he lifted it, then dropped it, letting it fall and smack Dick on the head. 

The other shot up, looking around for his attacker. Seeing no one but a giggling Tim, he playfully glared up at the boy. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" 

Tim laughed behind his hand, nodding, "I do!" 

Then he was tackled, fingers poking at him and tickling his sides, making his laughter worse.

"How's this for funny, huh, Timmy?" 

"Dick!" Tim pushed out between bouts of laughing, "stop! Uncle, uncle!" 

"What? I can't hear you! I had my ear drums bust after someone dropped a pillow on me!"

"That doesn't-" Tim broke out in a giggling fit, "that makes no sense!" 

"My brains smushed from the weight of someone throwing a pillow, sorry I can't think right now," Dick offered, tickling at Tim's neck and laughing when the other scrunched up in distaste.

"Stop! Please," Tim began to plead, body spasming with all the tickles.

Finally, Dick showed mercy and pulled back, curling up on Tim's bed. He let the other catch his breath, a huge smile on his face.

"Good morning?" Tim tried when his chest stopped heaving.

"Mornin'!" Dick replied gleefully. 

Tim wiggled his way up the bed, plopping his head on Dick's knee. He continued to rest, rubbing a hand on his sides to soothe the ache caused by way too much forced laughing.

"What's for breakfast?" 

"I'm  _ your _ guest," Dick chuckled, lightly pinching Tim's nose. 

"Fine. I hope you like cereal," Tim told him, sitting up in bed. 

"That sounds amazing right now," Dick told him, and he looked sincere. Tim added it to his mental list of all the weird things about Dick Grayson.

They piled downstairs and Tim poured them both cereal and milk. They ate at the table, both still a little sleepy. When they were done, Dick washed the dishes and they headed to crash on the couch.

"We didn't even have any s'mores," Tim reminded him. 

"Oh my God, you're right. I guess that means we'll just have to have another sleepover," Dick told him, ruffling Tim's hair. 

"Are you taking the candy back to your house?"

"What! No way, it's for you, Timmy. And even if I did want it, Alfie would kill me if he was all those sweets," Dick bemused.

"Okay. I'll sneak you some in the mornings. That way you can eat it at school and Alfred won't know." 

Dick smiled at him, and it wasn't a big grin or anything, but he looked so happy and amused and genuine and Tim wasn't sure what to do. "Thanks, Tim."

"Mhm. No problem."

"Hey, you got your skateboards out? Maybe you can show me how to do a kickflip?" Dick asked, already off the couch. Tim followed, already explaining how the move would work. 

The rest of the morning was spent at ease, and Tim marked the experience up to another new favorite memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longest chap yet yeehaw. next chapter is about bruce and tim bonding! boys we are rollin along


	6. Dad Bruce Plays Football

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes over and teaches Tim how to toss a football. He also attempts a deep conversation but...we all know how Bruce is.

Tim waited outside his school. It’d only been about five minutes since the last bell had rung, so he still had some waiting ahead of him. Today was different though, Dick wouldn’t be picking him up. 

Dick had left earlier this morning, heading to Central City for an extended weekend trip. Wally was having some sort of celebration and they were meeting up for it. Tim wasn’t sure of the specifics, but he knew how excited Dick was and agreed wholeheartedly when Dick asked if it was okay. 

Which in and of itself was… weird. Tim had never had someone, especially not an adult, ask his permission to leave him home before. His parents usually booked flights before they’d tell him they were back on the road, if they told him. He’d woken up several times to an empty house and a parting note. 

It was strange that Dick checked in with him first, even said he wouldn’t go if Tim didn’t want to be left with Bruce and Alfred. But it also felt nice, to know Dick valued Tim’s feelings enough to ask beforehand. It made Tim wonder about his parents, but that was typically a line of thinking he shut down quickly.

His parents weren’t Bruce and Dick. They loved him, he knew it, they are just different. 

And that’s  _ okay _ .

So today is different. Tim’s waiting but he’s not waiting for Dick. When Dick told him about the trip, several days before leaving, Bruce had added in that he would get Tim from school. Tim tried to tell him he could take the bus, but Bruce was adamant he’d leave work early to grab him. 

Speaking of Bruce, a fancy Mercedes was pulling into the parking lot. Tim ducked his head down, heading towards the car. Mr. Wayne was turned to look at him as he settled into the back.

“Hey, chum. Buckled?”

“Mhm.”

“How was school?” Bruce asked, turning back to the wheel and pulling out the parking lot.

“It was okay. I learned I don’t know how to throw a football.”

Bruce chuckled, looking at him in the rearview mirror, “No?”

“Nah, I tried to throw one to my friend and it hit the ground so hard we all had to run back to avoid it coming down and hitting us. Then when they threw it to me, I couldn’t catch it and it hit me in the nose,” Tim told him, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

Bruce winced, “sounds rough. You never played football before?”

“Nah, my dad was gonna teach me once but…” Tim trailed off with a shrug. 

Bruce hummed in thought, “well, I think Dick has an old football laying around somewhere. I can run you through it?”

Tim looked at him, surprised.  _ Batman is going to teach me how to play football… holy shit. _

“Ah, um, that would be cool. I’m not like… super sporty outside of skateboarding and like basic knowledge of baseball, but um… it sounds fun?” Tim agreed, fiddling with his hands. 

“I can’t say I was a star athlete at your age either. I didn’t learn how to swing a bat until I met my friend Clark. Speaking of, maybe after some football, you can show me how to skateboard?”

Tim gasped, shooting forward in his seat. “You?! Skateboarding?!”

Bruce laughed, it was deep and the smile that came with it made his eyes crinkle in a way that made him look older than he was. “Yes, if that’s alright? I want to surprise Dick.”

“Yea! I mean, I can teach you what I know? It’d be a pretty funny joke for Dick to come home to us skateboarding together,” Tim chuckled, laughing into the collar of his shirt. 

The car came to a stop, they’d arrived at the manor already. Tim hopped out the car, grabbing his backpack on the way. Inside they were greeted by Alfred who informed them hot chocolate and blueberry scones were on the way. 

“Tim, I’m going to get changed. Dick’s old football should be in one of the sheds out back.We’ll have to grab it together if you don’t mind waiting down here?” Bruce asked, already heading towards the stairs. 

“That’s fine! I’ll just eat all the snacks.”

Bruce whipped around, scoffing, “Alfred, don’t let him.”

Alfred stepped back in almost silently, setting down a tray of pastries and choco. Tim excitedly grabbed a plate and piled some scones on, smiling at Bruce as he bit into one.

“My apologies, sir, I don’t seem to be able to control young master Tim. You may want to hurry.”

“Traitors.” 

Tim watched the man, now moving at a quicker pace, disappear up the stairs. He continued his attack on the scones, thanking Alfred for the treat. 

“Of course. While you and Master Bruce play outside, I’ll take to setting up your room. Do you have any preference on linens? We do have the nice silks if you rather that over cotten?” Alfred asked.

“Ah, um,” Tim choked down his scone, feeling awkward, “I’m sleeping over?”

“I was under the impression Master Bruce had asked already, my apologies.”

“No it’s fine! I mean, I can stay? If you’re both fine with it. And cotton's fine!” Tim assured. 

“We thought it may be best. Master Bruce didn’t want you to be alone this weekend.”

“Oh well… I used to stay home alone on the weekends? It wouldn’t be a problem, really!”

Alfred huffed, as if in disagreement, “that will not be necessary. If you don’t mind staying, we would love to have you.”

“And it gives us more time to perfect your throw,” Bruce added, standing at the bottom of the steps with a small smile. 

Tim nodded, “okay. Well i already agreed so it’d be rude to cancel now.”

“That’s the spirit,” Bruce chuckled, leaning over Tim to snatch one of his treats. 

“Hey! You’re just as bad as Dick!” Tim whined, moving away to avoid any more theft. 

“I take no offence to that,” Bruce told him, taking a cup of hot chocolate. 

After snacks and helping Alfred clean up, the two were in the backyard searching for the ball. Bruce was right about it being in the shed. Now they’d settled comfortably in the middle of the yard, Bruce adjusting Tim’s grip on the ball.

“My hands are kind of small for this,” Tim pointed out, the ball almost slipping out of his hand.

“Ah, you’re right. Dick was older when we would play. I’m sure the practice will help for when you grow into it,” Bruce assured, stepping back several feet to give Tim some throwing room. “Alright, now try to pass it to me. Keep your finger placement in mind.”

Tim reeled his arm back before shooting forward and throwing the ball as hard as he could. It whizzed past Bruce and made a nosedive into the grass. 

“Good, that was good, Tim. Let’s adjust and try again.”

The afternoon went past like that, Tim would throw once or twice and Bruc would come over and adjust his grip or stance or pull again. It was fun, but Tim’s arms were getting tired. Taking a break, they sat on the steps sipping some lemonade Alfred had kindly dropped off. It was a comfortable silence, Tim felt warm and safe here. Despite his many fails and fuck ups with throwing the ball, Bruce didn’t seem judgemental whatsoever. If anything, he seemed proud of Tim’s progress.

“That was fun, chum. We’ll have to do it again some time.” Bruce patted him on the shoulder before reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“Yea, can’t let your coaching get rusty,” Tim bemused, sipping his juice. 

“I thought I was doing pretty good?” Bruce asked, smiling. 

“Hm. Yea, you’re not a  _ bad  _ teacher.”

“Don’t stroke my ego too much, Tim.”

_ Oh, too far Tim. You trying to drive him away? _

“...sorry.”

Bruce looked surprised, shaking his head, “you’re fine, Tim. I… we were joking around?”

“Okay.”

_ Tim… you fucking fool. _

“It’s fine Tim. You don’t have to be scared to talk to me,” Bruce rubbed a soothing circle on Tim’s back.

“Okay, thank you,” Tim gave in, giving Bruce a weak smile. 

“I may be out of place with this assumption, but I expected you to talk to me more, honestly. After you and Dick discussed… you know what, I thought you may come to me, Bruce admitted. 

_ Discussed…? Oh fuck, did Dick tell him about the zoo? And me crying over my parents like a toddler! Shit! _

“He told you about that?” Tim flushed, trying to curl in on himself. 

_ Batman knows I cried. In public. Over being asked about my parents. End me now. _

“Well, yes. It’s nothing to be shy over, Tim. I don’t fully understand how it happened, but your-”

“Um, actually! I didn’t think Dick had told you,” Tim interrupted.

“Oh. I’m… sorry?” Bruce tried, looking at him with a bit of perplexion in his expression, “we don’t have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, really,” Tim told him in enerst, his blush burning down his neck by now, “I just rather not talk about it.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Tim. We can forget I mentioned it,” Bruce reassured, and Tim believed him. Bruce didn’t typically say things he didn’t mean. 

Tim was glad for the break, he’d lied more than enough about his parents to Dick, he didn’t want to lie to Batman too. Especially when it involved him crying,  _ ew.  _ Luckily, Bruce was weird, and Tim didn’t think he’d ever been around kids Tim’s age. Or really any kids other than Dick. Cause while Bruce seemed like a good dad-  _ father figure, Tim, he hasn’t adopted Dick,  _ he also didn’t know a ton about kids. He wasn’t always in tune with what Dick and Tim talked about. And once or twice, Dick and Bruce had argued over proper child care, specifically ‘how many friends was a normal amount to have’ and ‘what adults kids actually talk to when they have problems’. And usually Tim agreed more with Dick, he thought more like a kid but had the edge of an adult. 

Now Tim felt like he was living one of Bruce’s unsure adult moments. Bruce seemed like he wanted to pursue questioning Tim, but he also respected Tim’s want to drop the conversation. Tim knew if Bruce was one of his parents, he wouldn’t be allowed to escape the questioning. 

Saved from an awkward silence by Alfred coming out to announce dinner being ready. They crowded inside, Tim telling Alfred about his progress so far and Bruce backing him with praise.

“You catch on quickly, Master Tim,” Alfred commented after their rundown of the afternoon. He set a plate of some sort of fish down in front of Tim, and Tim could already hear his taste buds singing. He didn’t need to know what he was eating, if Alfred made it he was certain it would be good. 

“It’s true. And he’s got more patience than Dick had. I’m sure when he’s home, Dick would love to pass the ball around with us,” Bruce praised, leaning back to let Alfred set his plate down. 

“It’s not good to compare your children,” Alfred chided, “however I’m sure Dick would enjoy a game. It’s been some time since the two of you went out.” 

Tim knocked a fist against his chest, coughing, “children?”

Bruce chuckled, “sorry Tim. You’re around enough to practically be one of us. We all see you as family by now.”

Tim bit his lip, cheeks rosey and  _ Tim learn to control your emotions please.  _ He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and did a half shrug and nod, brain still trying to process what Bruce said.

_ Family? ME? I mean… I’ve been coming over awhile now and… I spend almost all day with them but… they see me as more than just the kid next door? _

“Yes well, as a family we’ll have to decide if this dinner was worth the price. The seller swore this cod was better than any other markets and ran me up almost a hundred for a few pounds alone,” Alfred grumbled, cutting into his meal. 

“You can make any meal good,” Bruce told him, already digging in. 

_ Okay we’re just gonna move on? Don’t worry Tim, no more feely stuff for now. Now eat your cod and count your blessings. _

Bruce was right, it was a good meal. Tim finished his whole plate and was given a smile from Alfred in return. After cleaning up, Tim found himself in one of the sitting rooms with Bruce. 

“After dishes, Alfred will show you to your room. Make sure you brush your teeth before bed, though,” Bruce told him, flicking through a book that’d been left on the table.

“Okay, I’ll need a shower too. I stink.”

“That you do, playing outside in the sun will make you sweat a storm. I’ll give you some of Dick’s old clothes to wear after,” Bruce joked. 

“Hey! You don’t smell like roses either,” Tim griped, frowning at the man in mock upset.

Bruce set the book down with a smile, looking at Tim seriously, “Tim. About earlier. I hope I didn’t upset you by calling you family?”

Tim put his hands up, waving them in a  _ nonononono you got it all wrong  _ fashion. “That’s not it! It was just surprising! I’m… I’m happy that you can see me like that.”

“Of course, Dick thinks very highly of you, Tim. When he was younger he’d whine to me about how empty the house was and how badly he wanted company that was closer to his own age. I’m glad he found you,” Bruce told him and Tim felt like he could breathe with how full his chest was. 

Dick was looking for someone like him. Dick liked him, like actually liked him and not just for the job and he wanted Tim around! Tim didn’t know how to react, he wanted to throw his hands around in a burst of energy, or maybe jump around the room a few thousand times. 

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, and he nodded to Bruce’s words, “I’m glad. I want siblings but… My parents are planning on it, and spending time with Dick has been fun. In the way I sorta assumed having a sibling would be? I mean, just saying with you is fun too!” Tim added, rubbing the back of his neck. His blunder couldn’t keep his smile down though, too many good feelings were coursing through him. 

“I understand, it’s different. And I know Dick feels the same. You should have heard him after your trip to the zoo, he told me over and over that one of the cashiers called you his brother. He couldn’t drop it, he was so happy.”

“Really?” Tim asked, and his grin only got wider when Bruce nodded. 

“Now then, I think Alfred would like to show you to your room. Good talk, chum, I’ll see you in the morning,” Bruce ruffled his hair one last time before heading to the door just as Alfred entered.

“Night, Bruce!” Tim called, still giddy. 

“Oh, and make sure you shower. Can’t have this place smelling like a barn.”

“Ugh,” Tim rolled his eyes, smile still in place, “ _ goodnight, Bruce _ .”

“Night, Tim.”

Tim got up after Alfred came in to hand him some worn clothes, all from Dick’s old wardrobe. He followed the older gentleman to a bathroom and just across the hall was his room for the night. 

“And Master Bruce’s quarters are just down the hall if something happens and you need one of us,” Alfred finished. 

“Thank you,” Tim headed into the bathroom, “and g’night, Alfred.”

“Goodnight, Master Tim.”

With that, he vanished down the dark hallways to do whatever butlers did at night, and Tim turned towards the bathroom , ready to get cleaned up. Despite the few awkward moments, Tim was excited for the rest of the weekend. Sure Dick wasn’t here, but spending time with Bruce was nice and Tim hoped this weekend was a chance for him to get to know The Batman better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i love writing awkward but trying so hard dad Bruce. hes so used to ppl coming to him, imagine reaching out... anyways chap 7 is already done but ofc ima make yall wait a little. dick comes home in it so dw if you missed bro time


	7. Late Night Convos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim finally gets out to batwatch again.

It was Tuesday night, and Tim already knew he wasn’t going to bed anytime soon. It’d been too long since he last went out to watch Batman and Robin, and he was itching for some new photos. 

Dick had dropped him off at his house about two hours ago, and Tim had spent the time getting everything ready. His bag had snacks and first aid supplies and plenty of film to last him the night. His worn sneakers were on and his camera was around his neck. It was actually one of the warmer nights, so he didn’t have a hoodie on and he was wearing some shorts. 

He had checked the news earlier, there didn’t seem to be any big breakouts recently, but there was a new gang rising. There wasn’t a lot of info out yet though, and Tim couldn’t find much on the GCPD’s documented files, so he thought it'd be a pretty slow night. 

As fun as action filled, bud guy punching nights were, Tim’s favorites were slow nights. Usually, when there wasn’t anything apparent going on, Batman and Robin would get food and sit on the edge of buildings. It was times like those that Tim got some of his best shots. 

Making his way out of his house, he locked the door and made for his bike, speeding off to his route into town. His schedule today landed him in Crime Alley, not somewhere he went often as his chances of being mugged skyrocketed anytime he did go. But he didn’t see tonight holding too much conflict and took the chance.

He snuck about through town, peering down alleyways and following his predicted bat-route. Things were quiet though, and Tim started to wonder if the duo would even make an appearance tonight, or if they were staying in. It was possible, earlier they’d offered Tim to sleep over, an offer Tim had turned down. He’d stayed at Wayne manor a few times after Bruce had watched him for the weekend, usually for sleepovers with Dick, but it was still weird to stay in someone else's home for so long. And it didn’t matter how many times they called Tim family, or how warm inside it made Tim feel, he still felt the need to return back to his parents house. 

Tim decided to get a better look around and snuck up the back of an old office building. It had a hanging ladder to the roof, and he carefully climbed up it, making sure not to rattle it. At the top, the building held an access into the building, a large concrete way that took up most of the roof. He couldn’t even see around it, which was both good and bad. Less sights on Batman and Robin, but it also left him plenty of shadows to hide away in. 

He did a sweep around the roof, looking to the skyline and seeing nothing. It was already very dark out, but Tim didn’t want to head home yet. The potential of seeing his heroes in action was too much of an anchor that grounded him to the roof. Heading back towards the emergency ladder opening, he slumped down against the roof entry building. He toyed with his camera a bit, considering his options, when he heard the soft  _ thud _ of someone landing on the roof. 

Considering he was looking at and leaning on the only two entrances to the roof, unless Superman was stopping by, the only people who could possibly be on the roof with him were  _ goddamn Batman and Robin.  _

Staying as still as possible, Tim listened to the faint rustling of fabric,  _ capes _ , his heart pounding. He crossed his fingers hoping the two weren’t gonna do a too in depth security check because  _ holy shit he's right here.  _

When nobody called him out or came to see him sitting there, he let himself breathe, sweat building up on his brow. It sounded like they were opening some wrappers, food maybe, and munching away. It was fairly quiet before a deep, hushed voice broke through. 

“That was a good swing, chum.”

“I know, I knocked him straight out with one swing,” that was Dick’s voice, definitely. Even in a quiet, whispered tone, Tim could tell. 

He inched a little towards the corner of the roof, the duo must have been on the adjacent side to him, but even this close he strained to hear. 

It was quiet again, more sounds of eating, before Batman broke the silence again. 

“I’m surprised. I expected our guest to be more… interested in seeing our work still.”

_ Guest?! They know I’m here? _

It sounded like someone was shifting, and Tim thought his heart was gonna burst out of his chest. He held a hand over his mouth and tried to keep his breathing even.

“B, I don't know…”

“I mean, when I tried to bring it up with him, ask him why he hasn’t seemed the least bit curious about staying with Batman and Robin-”

“Will you stop?” Dick’s voice cut through, much sharper than before. It made Tim jump, and he fell frozen, back smushed against the building as he listened. 

“Robin…”

“Just say what you’re thinking already.”

“Tim acted as if he didn’t know.”

_ Know what?  _

Tim licked his lips, taking a deep breath as he waited for Dick’s response. What didn’t he know? What did Bruce mean?

“I don’t know what you want me to say, B.” Dick sounded annoyed, his voice was strained like he wanted to yell but knew he couldn’t.

“I just want to know the truth Dick. You confirmed with me Tim hadn’t and wasn’t telling anyone.”

“And he hasn’t, he won’t!” Dick hissed, voice still low and what was going on?

Tim’s head was swimming, what did that mean? What didn’t Tim know, what wasn’t he telling people? Dick hadn’t had any conversations like this with him.

“Chum, I’m not mad. I just want to know why Tim thinks we’re unaware of his nightly excursions. You told me you had talked to him,” Bruce told him, voice almost nonexistent as he whispered to his partner. 

Tim was shaking now,  _ they knew.  _ They knew and the talked about him, they were talking about him right now, and they didn’t know he was listening, and Dick lied to Bruce and Tim didn’t know what the hell was happening. He gripped at the collar of his shirt, head spinning as he tried to follow. 

“I didn’t say that,” Dick bit out, “I said, I knew for fact he hadn’t told his parents our identity.” 

They thought he what? That Tim would just tell anyone their secret?

“Robin, that wasn’t the original plan. If you couldn’t handle-”

“I can handle the mission fine,  _ Batman _ , I’m not a fucking child. This was more than the mission!” Dick’s voice was rising and Bruce shushed him. 

Tim’s hand raised and pulled at his hair, trying to distract from the building pressure behind his eyes.  _ Mission? I… I was part of a mission? And their identities… what? _

“Robin, we can’t not tell him.”

“What am I supposed to tell him, B?!”

“The truth, we have to be honest. Otherwise it will hurt him in the long run.”

“The truth,” Dick’s voice was loud again and echoed in Tim’s ears, “the truth? You know how Tim is!”

How he was? What was Tim like, what was stopping Dick from whatever he was supposed to tell Tim? Tim ducked his head down, head pounding and chest hurting from how hard his heart was beating. 

Bruce didn’t get a chance to respond, Dick pushed along, “what truth, B? What should I tell him? Oh, hi Tim, sorry to bother, but I wanted to let you know we noticed you stalking us and we assumed you were the middleman for finding blackmail for your shitty parents, so we decided to investigate you to make sure you wouldn’t end up ruining our lives! Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner!” 

_ Ruining their lives? Batman and Robin thought he could- would ruin their lives?  _

Tim felt sick to his stomach and couldn’t hear anymore, his ears were ringing and his vision was blurred. As quietly as he could, he crawled to the escape ladder, shuffling down it as silently as possible as voices above him hashed it out until he couldn’t hear them anymore. 

In the alleyway, he stepped out, trying not to make a sound and alert the heros.  _ His heros _ .

_ The same heros that thought he was telling his parents their identities so they could swindle them out of everything.  _

Out of the alleyway and back under dim streetlights, Tim took off running. He needed to get home and lock himself inside and never leave again. He couldn’t face Dick or Bruce after this. He couldn’t look them in the eyes knowing all the nice times, all the talks, the sleepovers, it was all just a mission. 

This felt worse than anything else Tim had experienced. It was worse than his parents forgetting his birthday or not telling him when they were leaving. At least that he was used to, that he could expect.

He didn’t think Dick or Bruce would do this to him.

Rubbing an arm over his eyes, Tim tried to blink the tears away but they just kept spilling down his cheeks. If it wasn’t for his memory, he’d probably get lost with how he wasn’t able to look where he was going. 

It was that reason he was surprised when he crashed into a wall. Falling back onto the ground, Tim looked up. Through his blurry vision, he saw it wasn’t actually a wall, but rather a man. A very large, very angry looking man. 

‘Watch where you’re fucking going, brat,” he gruffed, kicking Tim’s leg. 

Tim yelped, scrambling backwards away from the guy, reaching down to feel where he was kicked. Another man emerged, shorter but just as angry looking. He sized Tim up and nodded to the first guy.

“Who’s that?”

“I don’t know, some brat.”

Tim scoffed, feeling uncomfortable, and shifting away. He tried to lowkey move his camera aside, but it had clearly already caught the men's eyes. 

“Grab him.”

“What?” Tim stuttered out, already trying to get his feet back under him to book it. 

Before he could get even an inch ahead, the man had grabbed him, locking one big arm around Tim’s midsection and the other around his neck.

“What’ll we need ‘im for?” 

“You see him? See his fancy little camera and his nicer clothes? He’s got folks with money, folks I’m sure would pay a heavy sum to get him back. And if they don’t I’m sure we could sell him somewhere else,” the second guy was heading into a decrepit looking building, and the first guy followed behind, dragging Tim with him. 

Tim tried wiggling out of the man’s grasp, but he was already drained from earlier and it was late and he was so, so much smaller than these guys. Kicking out his legs didn’t do much besides end up with the arm around his throat tightening until Tim couldn’t breathe. When he started seeing black, he was dropped onto the floor. 

“Tie him up, I’ll see if I can get him talking.”

His bag and camera were tossed to the side, and Tim winced because  _ fuck cameras are fragile,  _ but started to get a lot more worried for himself when he found his hands and feet bound with thick ropes. Testing the hold, he couldn’t get an edge on it. 

With a kick to his ribs, the smaller man from before barked down to him, “quit squirming. Now tell us mommy and daddy’s phone number so we can get this sorted out.”

There was no fucking way Tim was doing that. He couldn’t explain to his parents why he was out, and if they knew, then Dick and Bruce would find out too and Tim couldn’t handle that, Not that he believed his parents would answer the phone anyways. 

Shaking his head no, Tim was treated to another kick, this one landing on his stomach and making him cough up spit. He was sore, his eyes were heavy with tears, and he wanted to go to his house. 

“C’mon kid, don’t make me really hurt you.”

“Fuck you,” Tim grunted out, choking in gulps of air. 

“Oh, wanna play like that then? Alright, tough guy, let’s see how much you can handle.”

Tim braced for another kick, but it didn’t come. Instead, he saw the glimmer of a knife before it came down and sliced a cut into his cheek. It was shallow but jarring, and Tim jerked back. The cut was bleeding, he could feel the warmth of the blood trailing down his cheek, and it was detrimental, but he was scared. He curled in on himself, trying to hide his face from anymore harm. 

When he felt himself being dragged up by his hair, Tim’s eyes snapped open,  _ when did they close _ . A knife was pressed to his throat and Tim let out a scared noise. Rather than a cut coming, the knife pulled away and a fist slammed into his jaw, making Tim cry out.

“Let’s go, kid, just tell us what we want to know.” 

When he was yanked up again, Tim let out a strangled scream. He hit the floor again, and a hand wrapped around his throat. 

“Shut up!”

His vision was swimming again, and when the hand unwrapped from his throat, he tensed up for the upcoming punch. But it never came.

Instead, Tim heard a  _ thump  _ as the man above him smashed to the side. Sitting up and taking in some harsh breaths, Tim watched the scene in front of him unfold. 

Batman was taking on the larger guy, and Robin had been the one to knock the smaller one off of Tim. It felt like Tim was watching TV, or somewhere far away. His head was buzzing, his throat hurt, and he couldn’t track what was occurring. His mind was still running a mile a minute, however, as thoughts of Batman and Robin and Bruce and Dick crashed over him. 

The fight was over in no time, Tim had missed most of it catching his own breath. By the time Dick- Robin, by the time Robin was approaching him, Tim had mostly calmed down. The men from before were out cold behind the duo.

“Ti- kid, we need to get you help,” Robin started, reaching out to grab Tim.

Tim jerked back, shaking his head. He stumbled up, getting to his feet. 

“Son, I wouldn’t suggest-”

“Stop. Just stop,” Tim pleaded, backing away from the heros. 

“Tim, please, let us help. What's wrong?” Robin tried.

Tim backed until he’d reached where his camera and bag had been tossed. Bending down slowly, he picked them both up, watching Batman and Robin warily. He didn’t know what to say, what he could say. He hurt, everything hurt, and he just wanted everything to go away.

“I heard.”

“Heard what, buddy?” Robin actually looked confused and fuck, Tim wished this had never happened. 

“I was part of the mission.”

Both partners looked shocked, Batman less so but Tim had been around Bru- him long enough to tell. Tim kept inching back, closer and closer to the door and escape. 

“Tim, that wasn’t-”

“Shut up,” Tim snapped, “just shut the fuck up. Don’t. Don’t talk to me or, or come see me. You’re fired!”

“Tim, we can talk through this,” Batman tried and Tim really wished they could but he was done listening. He just wanted to leave.

“I’ll tell. I’ll tell my parents, the news, Vicki Vale, anyone,” he wouldn’t, but clearly Batman and Robin didn’t believe that. 

“Tim, please,” Robin begged. 

Tim felt the door with his hand, not daring to turn away from the two. He pulled it open, half stepping out of it. Robin looked ready to lurch forward, but Batman kept a hand on his shoulder.

“You need help!”

“Not from you. I swear, if you follow me or try to see me again, I’ll call the police,” Tim couldn’t. Even now he couldn’t betray Batman and Robin.

Tim stepped out, and running on pure adrenaline and spite, he took off into the night and towards his house. He only barely made the bus ride, and had to avoid strange looks from other patrons. He was sure he looked awful, he probably already had bruises forming on his neck. The bike ride home was slower, but he made it.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so happy to return to his empty house. It was cool inside, and he made sure to lock the door behind him as he came in. He trudged to the bathroom, and winced at his reflection. There was blood caked onto his face from the cut on his cheek, his hair was disheveled, and he had fingerprint shaped bruises on his throat. His eyes were bloodshot, Tim didn’t think he’d cried so hard before. At least not since he’d visited the circus with his parents. 

Tim took to cleaning himself up. He was tired, but he didn’t expect to go to school tomorrow anyways, so he could sleep in. He washed his cheeks off and applied a bandaid. After, he took a quick shower before heading downstairs to drink some water. He knew he should eat something too, but he couldn’t make himself. Just the thought of food made him sick. 

He felt hollow, his body was moving but for once his mind was at a stand still. He crawled into bed, a water bottle on his nightstand, and crashed onto his pillow. Settled in the dark, he let himself cry again. 

Sobs wrecked through his body, shaking his whole form. He wasn’t sure how long he cried, but he knew he was loud, wailing out as if someone would hear and come comfort him. He cried until he had no tears left and was just dry heaving. The shaking never stopped, and Tim tried to ground himself by holding his pillow as tightly as he could. 

He spent the whole night afraid that he'd hear a knock on the door, or a tap against his window from some unwanted heros. But none ever came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming down to the end of the line, see yall in chap eight


	8. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's in for a surprise.  
> Tw: child abuse

Tim hadn’t left his bed. After initially crashing down onto the mattress, he hadn’t found the energy to get back up. Even come morning he heard knocking on his door, he stayed put. Eventually after about twenty minutes, Dick gave up and left. Tim thought he’d heard him call out to Tim through the door, but from his room, he could only hear distant noise. 

He wasn’t letting him back in. Or any of them. Batman could show up in full uniform at his door, and Tim didn’t think he could answer. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was upset with them or mad at himself. He was furious, though, curled up in a ball on his bed. His fists clenched in his hair, he went over every mistake he’d made.

_ First fuck up: believing someone like Dick Grayson or Bruce Wayne could be genuinely invested in me.  _

Tim scoffed at the thought, biting his lip and wishing he could just forget. He felt ridiculous, ashamed, even if he got the chance to see Batman and Robin again, he didn’t know if he could. He felt so embarrassed, knowing he was a  _ job  _ for them when he thought it was something more. 

He should’ve known, he shouldn’t have fallen right into place. His parents always told him everything was a business move, he needed to focus on facts over feelings,  _ but it felt so real.  _ All the nice words, all the promises of family, the dinners and hugs and-

Tim felt so,  _ so _ stupid. 

So hiding in his room, dried tears on his face and his whole body aching because  _ he was kidnapped _ , Tim waited. He wasn’t sure what for, maybe for energy or until he no longer hurt. 

Around afternoon, when Dick and he would usually arrive at the Wayne manor and get snacks from Alfred, he was so hungry his stomach was aching. Tim didn’t want to get out of bed, though, and twisted around to look at the door. The kitchen was so far from here, and it meant passing by the front door. He knew Dick wouldn’t be out there, but he didn’t want to test it. 

His backpack, however, was just a few feet from his bed, and it held snacks. Sure it was just granola bars and gummies, but Tim would eat just about anything right now. Leaning over the edge of his bed, Tim reached out and grabbed his bag. His camera was sitting next to it, and he frowned when he saw it. 

He tried to brush off the twisted feeling it brought, and leaned back up with his backpack in tow. Shifting through it he pulled out a few snacks before letting his backpack slip back to the floor. Tim nibbled on a granola bar, his stomach churning. He was hungry, but he also felt sick. 

He managed to get through two bars before setting the other snacks on his nightstand. Leaning back against the headboard, Tim sighed. 

“It feels like it’s been either a week or only a couple minutes since…” Tim cut himself off, eyes dragging lazily over the ceiling. He couldn’t cry anymore, but the hurt feelings didn’t leave. They swarmed in his head and made his chest feel like it was full of lead. 

His neck was throbbing where the bruises on it sat, and he had a building headache. Tim shifted, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his water bottle. He sipped slowly, feeling like he wasn’t solid. 

Everything was slipping through his fingers right now. Tim thought… he really thought he’d finally found a place he belonged. Where he was welcomed, with open arms too. With the Waynes’ he felt like he was wanted. Not like he had to prove himself constantly. With his parents it was different. His parents had made it clear they had him only for an heir, and that if Tim wanted their praise and affection, he had to earn it. 

And Tim could do that. He would do that.

But with Dick and Bruce and Alfred it was different. They never set standards for him, they were happy with anything he could do. There weren’t any goals or chores or expectations. He was free to act however he wanted, within reason, without punishment. 

It was so different, and Tim had loved it. He… he trusted Dick with things he’d never trusted anyone else with. Let him hear and see the things Tim couldn’t tell his own family. Let him be a part of Tim’s interests and likes and  _ Tim is so stupid.  _

Even in the beginning, it was a job. Tim knew that, he knew it from the start.  _ So why did it hurt so much? _

It wasn’t the same job. Tim thought he was being nannied by the boy next door, thought it was all fun and games. But he was being monitored. It wasn’t actually fun, Dick wasn’t just taking a job and getting to know Tim better. He was watching him, seeing what he knew, who he was telling what he knew. 

And Tim should have known. It was a ridiculous concept from the start. Why would Batman and Robin interact with him unless they needed something. 

Tim had nothing to give them. They were only around to secure that knowledge that he wouldn’t be telling anyone about them. 

Tim hadn’t realized how much time had passed, or that he’d dozed off, until he was woken by the sound of the phone ringing. His nose scrunched up as he wiggled out of bed, slumping to his desk to pick up the home phone. He wasn’t expecting a call from his parents, but then again he never was. 

“Hello? Master Timothy?”

Tim slammed the phone back onto the cradle and then promptly freaked out.

_ I just hung up on Alfred! _

He stumbled back onto his bed, ignoring when the phone began to ring again. He covered his head with a pillow and listened to the shrill ringing until it was finally over. And then it started again. And again. 

Eventually, Alfred didn’t try again, and instead, a voice mail cut through the air. 

“Good evening, master Tim. I’m not sure where the communication error lies, but I was hoping to get a hold of you. Dinner is ready, if you’re hungry, we would love to have you.” 

There was a pause, and Tim thought it might be the end of the recording. 

“I… have heard you may be upset. Please try not to let that keep you away for long. I know the young masters wish to speak with you. Have a nice night, Tim.”

The phone clicked and the line went dead. 

Tim settled back on his bed, and pulled the covers up over his head. The ache was back worse. He missed them, he wanted to see Alfred. He wanted to eat dinner with them and laugh at Bruce and Dick’s antics, and help Alfred wash dishes. But he didn’t want to see them again, not after the humiliating reveal that it was all just… just another mission for them. 

_ That they thought Tim would, could, ruin their lives. _

His eyes burned, but he was too dehydrated to cry again. So he curled back up and waited for sleep to take over once more. 

Every morning after had been the same. For the following week, every morning Dick would be at the door. On Saturday and Sunday, he’d even stayed a whole hour. About four days into it, Tim began sitting at the foot of the stairs. He’d listen to Dick for a while. 

Pleads of “Timmy, please let me in” and “I won’t make you, I’ve already done enough wrong, but I need to talk to you” could be heard in variations. Tim couldn’t listen for long, it just made everything hurt worse. 

On the sixth day, Dick left behind food from Alfred. A hearty casserole that made Tim salivate. Even though the butler had yet to call again, Tim had listened to his voicemail several times. Usually at night, before falling into a nightmare filled rest, he’d play it on repeat. It starved off thoughts of being alone and held back dreams of men with knives and Batman and Robin being too late. 

By day eight, the bruises were fading. They were yellowish and no longer throbbed continuously. But his thoughts were still scrambled. The more he thought over what happened, the less he knew what to think.

There was no way Dick and Bruce  _ only  _ saw him as a mission, right? But then again, they’re trained for things like this. Dick was a performer! He knows how to please the public. It all felt so real, so genuine. 

Tim couldn’t stop going back and forth. What gave him away? How’d they know he was watching them? Did they read his notes off his computer about his theories on them? Did they see the flash of his camera? How had he been such an open book.

Everything, all signs, pointed to his own idiocy. There was no taking out Tim’s faults. And that made it so much harder to accept any ideas of going back to the Waynes. He wasn’t ready for all of Dick’s begging to  _ come back _ to be another lie. 

Early on, he’d emailed the school and informed them that he was sick. He even went as far to fax in a forged doctor's note. He hadn’t heard back besides the initial “get well soon”, so it seemed fine enough. He knew he’d have to go back eventually, but he was hoping his bruises would be gone before then. Wearing makeup wasn’t high on his list of things he was willing to do right now. 

Tim also hoped Dick would stop coming by soon. Otherwise he’d have to wake up even earlier to leave before Dick could show up and corner him. 

It wasn’t until day fifteen that Tim realized he’d made a mistake. 

He’d yet to return to school, but Dick had stopped coming over by day ten. His neck was almost fully clear of any sign of trauma, and he had almost been able to get through a whole night without nightmares. He was even getting out of bed and eating in the kitchen! Things were  _ fine,  _ he was getting back into a schedule he hadn’t had since before he officially met Dick. 

So when he woke up to the front door slamming open, he was more than a little surprised.

His parents' voices were already booming throughout the house, and Tim rushed out of bed. Almost tripping over himself, he made his way to the door. He stepped into the hall just in time to hear his dad yell to him. 

“Tim! Get down here right now!” 

Feeling shaky and wondering what happened, Tim rushed down the flight of steps. His parents were home earlier than usual, and he hadn’t heard his mom's voice yet. Something- anything could have happened. 

He slid into the foyer and let out a breath seeing his mom and dad in one piece. One very angry piece.

“Timothy, do you have any explanation for why your school has called us nonstop the past week?” His mother asked, voice cold. 

Their bags were still sitting about around them and it was clear they’d come straight home after leaving the airport.His dad was fuming, and his mom looked more than upset. 

“I, I told them I was sick?” Tim tried, shying back from his parents. 

“So they told us. Sick for two weeks straight?” his mother was cut off, his father stepping forward.

“We missed a few calls and they were threatening to call the damn cops! What the fuck did you do?” He bellowed, arms thrown in the air in exasperation. 

“They never called here, I didn’t know-”

“Why weren’t you at school in the first place? Where is the Wayne brat? He’s supposed to make sure you attend?” Janet asked, stopping Tim’s father before he could yell again. 

Tim wet his lips. He’d been so concerned over Dick and Bruce and missing them that he hadn’t even thought about how mad his parents would be. 

Unsure what to tell them, Tim stuttered out, “he… he quit.”

It was like watching a damn burst. His father’s face got impossibly red, and his mother’s looked so scrunched and sour, Tim couldn’t recognize her. 

Reaching down, his father grabbed him by the hair, jerking his head around, “are you fucking stupid?! We feed you, we give you a roof over your head, the clothes on your back, and this is how you repay us?!”

Tim gulped, cringing when Jack got in his face to scream directly at him. 

His mother reached out and put a hand on his father’s shoulder and Tim had never loved her more. 

“Jack, calm down.”

“Shut it, Janet! I’m sick of this brat. We’ve given him  _ everything _ and he couldn’t do one thing right? He’s lucky I don’t take a belt to him!” 

Tim tried to pull away but the hand in his hair held him in place. His mom just sighed and shook her head and  _ why wasn’t she doing more? _

Jack cussed him out, spittle hitting Tim and making him fall back ever more. Each time Jack seemed to be done, he’d start up again, grip on his hair tight. 

He landed a smack to Tim’s cheek, not hard enough to hurt like the men from  _ that night _ did, but the ring on his finger made it sting. 

“Fucking raised a worthless, lazy, shit. How did you make Bruce Wayne hate you?! That man's dumber than a box of rocks and he still found a way to grow tired of you!”

After another backhand smack and threats of a belt, Janet called him a way. 

“Jack. Stop. We have more important things to figure out now. Timothy, go to your room. We’ll discuss your punishment later,” she told them, and with one last glare, Jack dropped him. 

Tim scrambled back upstairs, closing the door to his room as quietly as possible as to not upset his parents any more. He dropped to the floor, clutching the fabric of his shirt and panting. His heart was racing and he didn’t know what to do. His parent’s were livid with him, his school almost sent police to check on him, and _he pushed away_ _the only people who seemed to genuinely care about him._

Rubbing at his scalp with one hand and rubbing his cheek with the other, he felt himself begin to tear up for what felt like the thousandth time since all this started. He’d never been this emotional- this much of a crybaby- before he met Dick. 

Dick told him it was okay to cry, Bruce had even agreed. And right now, sitting alone in his room with nowhere to go and his parents like sharks waiting for him downstairs, Tim wished Dick was here to wipe his tears and tell him it was going to be okay. 

He missed them so much, now more than ever. He missed them in ways he’d never missed his parents before, and it _ hurt _ so bad. 

At some point, Tim had crawled into bed, shaking terribly and feeling like garbage. He was scared. He didn’t want to be, he could handle his parents. He could. He knew he could.

_ I don’t want to see them. _

Dinner time had long passed, and his parents loud, angry voices had quieted. Now it was dark out, almost pitch black, and everything was deafeningly silent. 

Tim gulped, he knew what he wanted to do. He didn’t know if he could, though. He didn’t want to be rejected, he wasn’t sure he could handle it if he was. 

Sitting up, as quietly as possible he made it to his desk and reached for the phone. His hands were trembling as he picked it up out of it’s cradle. He clicked in the phone number he’d memorized not so long ago. 

The phone only rang twice before the sound of knocking pierced the tense silence. Hanging the phone up just as it was answered, Tim turned to see a very upset Robin. Tim sat frozen for a moment too long, and Robin started to make a pleading gesture. 

Tim hurried to the window, unlocking it and throwing it open. Dick stepped in, the tree branch he was sitting on shaking and Tim hoped the noise they were making wouldn’t alert his parents.

Before Tim could even ask what was going on, Dick dragged him into a hug. He held on tight, and Tim couldn’t stop himself from reaching his arms around Dick as well. Eventually Robin pulled back, a worried look on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Tim tripped over his words, thoughts a mess and still wondering  _ what the hell is going on? _

“I saw your parents got home and I couldn’t stop myself. Bruce told me to give you time, said I couldn’t make you let me in but! Tim, Timmy, I missed you,” Dick told him with so much sincerity it hurt.

“That’s- I,” Tim bit his lip and started over, “I was about to call you.”

Dick looked shocked, but happy. 

“Really? I saw your parents are home. I know… I know they seemed to make you upset when I’d mention them and. Is everything okay?” Dick asked, his face was twisted in worry, and he settled his hands on Tim’s arms. He held him loosely, enough so that Tim could pull away if he wanted. It was comforting and Tim had missed this closeness in a way he couldn’t describe. 

Tim’s face scrunched, and his eyes felt wet. His mouth twisted as he tried to hold back on crying in front of his hero  _ again _ . 

“Timmy, hey, look at me. Are you okay?” 

It felt like something snapped in his chest, and Tim lurched forward, gripping onto Dick’s tunic as tears spilled over onto his cheeks. 

“ _ I want to go home _ ,” Tim told him, relishing in the feeling of Dick wrapping his arm back around him. 

Dick seemed confused, but intent on helping him. Slightly exasperated, he whispered, “Timmy, you are home?”

“ _ No _ ,” Tim spit out, shaking his head, “I want to go back to the manor. I want to see Bruce and Alfred. I want to kick Bruce out of his room and have a sleepover in there while we play games. I want to eat Alfred’s meals and listen to his stories about England. I want to go to school with you and talk to Wally about how embarrassing you are. Dick, please, I wanna go home.” 

Dick pulled him back, looking into his eyes. Tim didn’t know what he was searching for, but he must have found it because he nodded and pulled Tim in close again. He rubbed a hand over Tim’s back, shushing him gently. When Tim had calmed down and his cries were nothing more than light hiccups, he wiggled out of Dick’s arms. 

“Timmy, does… how’d you get this bruise?” Dick asked, rubbing a thumb over a sore spot on his cheek. 

Tim shook his head, “I wanna leave.”

“I know buddy, I know. I gotta- I don’t know if I can take you home tonight. I need to, I have to call Bruce,” Dick told him. His mind must’ve been as busy as Tim’s as he reached for the communicator settled in his ear. 

“Please,” Tim asked, and he knew he was being unreasonable but he couldn’t help it.

_ You’re so whiney Tim… but it’s okay. Dick’s here, he understands. _

Tim could hear the buzzing of talk from the communications device the second it turned on, Batman’s deep voice chastising Dick. 

Dick turned away slightly, shooting Tim a weak grin, as he started to answer Bruce’s questions. 

Tim didn’t listen as closely as he thought he should. His head was in the clouds. Dick was here, and he missed Tim, and he was taking Tim home. Tim knew his parents would be mad if they knew, if they found out Tim was practically begging someone to take him away. 

“He’s okay. Well, he’d better off than he could be,” Dick was whispering into the mic, “no. Bruce he can’t stay here- no listen. They- Bruce, I think they hit him.”

Tim shuffled until he could sit with his knees pulled up to his chest, chin resting on them. He listened as Bruce’s voice grew quicker, louder. Signs he was upset, upset for Tim. 

“I don’t want to leave him here, B. It’s not safe.” 

Tim was tired. Hungry too. He played with the hem of his shirt until Dick’s voice went quiet, the line’s noise dying down. Dick moved back in front of him and wrapped a hand around Tim’s. 

“Hey buddy.”

“What’d B say?”

Dick huffed, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “He had heard from Alfred that you tried to call earlier. Bruce said he was already planning to come check on you. He’s pretty upset.”

Tim tensed a little, but Dick shushed him before he could speak, “not at you, never at you, Timmy. You haven’t done anything wrong. He’s mad at your shitty- I mean, your parents.”

“Is he coming over?” Tim asked, looking up at Dick. 

“Mhm. We were hoping… Do you think you could tell us what they did, Timmy? To give you that bruise? And the stuff from before? The things that made you upset at the zoo?” 

Tim shrugged, he didn’t want his parents to get in trouble, but he didn’t want Dick to leave him here.

“You don’t have to, but it would help if you could. We want… me and B and Alfie, we want to make it where you can stay at the manor permanently,” Dick told him, and Tim’s head snapped up. 

He gasped, “like, like you? Like as a ward?” 

“Shh,” Dick chuckled, “that or, if you would want it at some point, even adoption? B and me, we’ve been dancing around him adopting me for awhile, so maybe this is a good opportunity to knock out two birds with one stone. B gets kids and I get the sweetest, best brother in the whole world. Of course, that would come later but…” 

Tim couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sure Bruce had said they saw him as family, but Tim never suspected he meant it quite literally. 

“He would adopt me?” Tim asked, still too starstruck to even consider his parents.

“Truth be told, I’ve been begging him to find a way to adopt you for the past several weeks,” Dick added, smiling at him in a way that was so utterly  _ Robin _ . 

Tim pointed to himself, trying to piece things together, “me and you. Like, as brothers? You want  _ me  _ to be  _ your  _ brother?” 

Dick stifled a laugh, nodding, “yes, Timmy, very much so.”

“I thought we agreed not to tell him until I got here?”

Tim jumped back looking up to see the  _ goddamn Dark Knight  _ was in his room. Tim wasn’t sure how he got in so quietly, but he was here now. 

Coming over to kneel by Tim as Dick was, Bruce pushed off his cowl and looked Tim over. Tim wasn’t sure what to say, but found he didn’t need to speak as Bruce pulled him in for a big hug. 

He held on to Bruce, fingers digging into the man’s cape. It didn’t last long, but it was warm and nice and made Tim feel lighter than he had in weeks. 

“I’d like to apologize, Tim,” Bruce started after pulling back. He looked ashamed, “we… I handled this all very poorly. I shouldn’t have made this a mission for Dick, and I should’ve been clearer with you. You were never meant to be hurt, especially not over something you couldn’t control.”

Tim wet his lips, nodding, “how’d you know?”

“Dick had spotted your camera one night. We’d argued over the importance of it, but when I caught you again and saw who you were, the Drake’s boy, I had more reason to be concerned. I checked your school and friend groups, but it was a sweep of your laptop that gave me worry.”

“Pretty dumb to have a file on Batman and Robin, huh?’ Tim joked weakly. 

“Not at all, I was extremely proud,” Bruce admitted. 

“He was, he talked about how smart you must be for like a week straight, Timmy,” Dick told him, smiling. 

“Proud?” Tim asked.

“Tim, you’ve pieced together a mystery hundreds, thousands, have missed. Your intelligence was scary, it was no accident you were able to connect the dots so well. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t something of your parents doing. We wanted to see your life and connect with you.”

“It only took me like a week to realize your parents had nothing to do with you,” Dick grumbled, “in any aspect. You were just a smarty.”

“When Dick told me he had confirmation you weren’t being forced to watch us for your parents, I had wrongly assumed that meant you understood we knew about your night trips,” Bruce looked like a big kicked puppy dog, and Tim could tell he’d been beating himself up. 

“It’s okay,” Tim tried.

“It’s really not,” Bruce gave him a weak smile and ruffled his hair, “I’m sorry, Tim. I hope you know, we really do see you as part of the family now.”

Tim wasn’t completely sure, but looking at Batman and Robin, sitting on his floor with him and holding his hands and singing praise of his abilities, he felt a little more secure. 

“I have parents.”

“I know.”

“But… I liked staying with you guys more. I…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Tim. I understand. You don’t have to get adopted Tim, or even stay with us. You can go anywhere you want. But if your parents are hurting you, then you shouldn’t stay here,” Bruce told him sadly. 

Tim nodded, not sure what to say. 

“I love them.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I don’t want to stay with them.”

Dick looked pleased, but was obviously trying to hide it. 

“Anything you want, Timmy,” Dick brushed his hair back off his forehead. 

Bruce agreed and the warmth Tim felt before came back. His chest felt lighter than it had in so long, a weight on his shoulders leaving. 

“I’d… I’d like to go home. I don’t want to hurt my parents, but I don’t want to be here,” Tim admitted. 

“It’s okay, we’ll figure this out. You won’t have to do anything, Tim, I can handle everything.”

“Please, I don’t want my parents lives to be hurt,” Tim asked.

Bruce was quiet, looking over at Dick before sighing, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now let's get you home, Alfred made us a late dinner.”

Before Tim could even get his feet under him, Dick was lifting him up and settling Tim onto his hip. Tim wrapped his arms around Dick’s shoulders, smiling when Dick shot him a goofy grin. 

“Hold on tight, Timmy, don’t wanna drop you on the way down,” Dick laughed, pulling his grappling hook off of his other hip. 

The trip down led them to the batmobile. Dick sat in the back with Tim, still holding him close and humming a light tune into his ear. Bruce pulled into the batcave and Tim jerked out of his sleepy haze. 

“Now now, Timbit,” Dick chuckled, “we can do a tour later. Let's get you some food and in bed.”

Dick pulled him from the car, ignoring Tim's complaints, and carried him upstairs. Tim took in as much as he could, a giant penny, a t-rex, a playing card, before it vanished behind a door. They stepped out through a clock, and Tim took note of where it was as Dick carried him to the kitchen. He would be getting that tour as soon as he could. 

Being settled onto the kitchen island, Tim heard Alfred’s scoff.

“God heavens, I’d say you’re as skinny as when you first came to see us, master Tim. Here, have some roast, dear boy.”

Alfred set a very full plate down beside him and Tim dug in. “I didn’t eat much, sorry. Oh, and sorry for not calling, I wanted to thank you for the casserole though,” Tim told him in between bites. 

“You’re very welcome,” Alfred gave him a small smile. 

“Me and B are gonna get changed, we’ll be back in a moment, Tim,” Dick ruffled his hair after getting a nod, heading back towards the cave.

“I’m glad you’re back, master Tim. It was quite solemn here without you.” 

“I’m glad to be back, I missed you a lot, Alfred,” Tim said with a small grin. 

Tim finished eating before Dick and Bruce got back, it sat in a calming quiet as Dick ate his leftovers. By the time they were done, Tim was half asleep.

Dick carried him upstairs to what had become Tim’s room at the manor. Tucking him in, Dick sat on the edge of bed. 

“I’m glad you’re back, Timmy,” Dick told him in a hushed tone.

Tim gave him a sleepy grin, “I’m glad I’m here.”

“I have… so much I want to say to you. So many apologies and… it can wait until you’re all rested up. Just. I want you to know, I really do love you, buddy. It hasn’t been long, but you really are like a little brother to me,” Dick brushed the hair back off Tim’s forehead, showing a watery smile. 

“I… thank you. You’re, um, you make a good older brother, Dick,” Tim said, yawning. 

“Alright, enough sappy stuff. Goodnight, little man.”

“Night, Dick.”

Dick gave him one last look before getting up and heading to his own room, closing Tim’s door gently on the way. 

Tim still felt anxious, worried about his parents, and worried about what his parents may do to him. He also felt better than he had in awhile, the prospect of being back on good terms with Bruce and Dick buzzing in his mind. And even more than that, the idea that he could even be part of their little family. No more empty mansion, no more nights alone, no going weeks without calls or three month business trips. 

He wasn’t sure he could just leave his parents, but the concept of it sounded so nice, he couldn’t help but fall asleep to dreams of a new family rather than nightmares of hostile men and rooftop conversations with Batman and Robin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wait a dang min im back.  
> hope yall like this chap,, its longer than most, a treat. time to get back into fluff


	9. Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes Tim's parents to court.

Tim woke up, sleepy confusion making him sit up and question where he was. Once it was clear he was in his room at the Wayne manor, his heart rate calmed down and he slid to get out of bed. Tim rubbed at his cheek, a bruise from his father’s smack still swollen there and aching. 

Tim headed towards the door and heard people talking. He followed the sound of hushed voices until he ended up in one of the sitting rooms. Bruce was on the phone, his stern voice coming out in clipped lines. Dick was sitting on one of the couches looking annoyed. Alfred was nowhere to be found, but tea was sitting at the table between the two heroes. 

Tim made his way in, catching both of their attentions. Dick shifted on the couch, moving over to let Tim sit next to him. Tim did so, quietly making his way past Bruce and smiling when the man reached out to ruffle his hair. Sitting down, Tim was pulled into a hug. He was practically sitting on Dick’s lap but the other seemed unbothered and had returned to glaring at Bruce’s phone. 

“No, this has nothing to do with Wayne Enterprise,” Bruce sighed like he’d said it a hundred times already, “listen, just scrounge up whatever facts you can and build a case. I’ll send you more information later.”

Bruce hung up the phone, setting it into the cradle just hard enough to reveal his annoyance. He sat back against the couch, huffing. 

“Your lawyers suck,” Dick whined.

Bruce rolled his eyes, “they’re the best in the country.”

“They’re still awful.”

Tim stifled a giggle behind his hand. He’d missed this, this bantering and closeness he’d never felt before meeting this family. 

Dick shifted, arms still tight around Tim’s midsection, and peered down at Tim. “What’s so funny, little man? This is super serious Wayne business here!” 

Tim snorted, and held back more laughter, “sorry, sorry. I’ll try to act seriously.”

Dick poked at his sides and tickled at his neck, drawing more giggles from Tim. Tim wiggled away from him, trying to draw in as much air as possible between his bouts of laughter. 

“Stop! Stop, B,” Tim choked out as he tried to get away from Dick, “make him stop!”

It went on for another painful minute before they startled to a stop at the sound of Bruce clearing his throat.

“Boys.”

Dick pulled his awful hands away, freeing Tim who shifted into the corner of the couch. Bruce looked at them with a sad smile and Tim knew the fun was over for now. 

“Tim, like Dick mentioned, I’ve been talking to my lawyers. They’re already working on a negligence case. It’s easy enough to find a timeline for how long they’re away from home, but if possible, I was hoping to get more personal recollections from you,” Bruce told him, looking apologetic. 

Tim bit his lip, feeling uncomfortable under the other's eyes. It felt weird to talk about his parents like this. It felt like he was going behind their backs. He wasn’t sure what to say, and stared down at his legs, playing with the end of his shirt. 

As if sensing the tension, Alfred stepped into the room with a tray of pancakes and syrup. Settling it down on the table in between Bruce, Dick and Tim, he stepped back to look over them all.

“As important as getting Master Tim’s account is, it’s more important he eats first.”

“You’re right, thank you Alfred,” Bruce agreed.

Tim reached to grab a plate, suddenly realizing how hungry he was.

“Timmy needs all the food he can get. If he gets any thinner he might just disappear,” Dick laughed, grabbing a fork to steal a piece of Tim’s pancake. 

“Hey! You  _ just _ said I needed to eat more,” Tim grumbled. 

“Yea but you also need to know about sharing.”

“Master Dick, I’m sure you’ll find your own plate just as satisfactory as Master Tims,” Alfred gently scolded, eyeing Tim’s plate.

“Okay, sorry Alfie,” Dick mumbled, grabbing his own plate off the tray.

“Why are you telling Alfred sorry? You stole from me!” Tim whined, frowning when Dick just reached over to ruffle his hair. 

The breakfast was mostly quiet, the impending conversation looming over them. It was apparent no one really wanted to discuss such a subject, but it needed to be done. Or so it seemed. Tim still wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t want to stay with his parents anymore, not when he had the option to be with the Waynes, but they were still his parents. He didn’t want to hurt him, but he didn’t want to stay with them. 

He was sick of sitting alone in an empty house. Sick of not knowing when his parents would be home. Sick and tired of watching his parents leave. 

In all the time he’d been with the Wayne’s, which maybe didn’t seem long but it’d felt like forever, Bruce had never left. He never spoke of three month long business trips or disappeared unexpectedly in the morning. 

Tim knew what he wanted, he wanted to stay with Bruce, even just as a ward. He just knew what he wanted felt wrong. 

“Tim, kiddo, are you okay?” Bruce asked after the plates had been cleared and Alfred had left once more. 

“Yea, I mean like, no? But yea.”

_ God Tim, you sound so stupid.  _

“Tim, we don’t have to do this,” Bruce said after a pause, “ I can build a case against your parents without your statement if you don’t think you want to talk about it.”

“But it would help,” Tim sighed.

“I would rather you be comfortable.”

Tim wasn’t sure what to say. It was still new having someone, multiple someones, care about him like this. Care about how he felt, more than about how they felt. His parents had never put him first like this. 

Making his decision, Tim shook his head, “no, I- I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“If you’re sure?” Bruce checked.

Tim licked his lips, trying to look Bruce in the eyes as confidently as possible, “yea, I can handle this.”

Bruce gave him a small smile, and Tim tried to take it as the reassurance it was meant to be. 

“Then, if you don’t mind, may I record our conversation?” 

Tim nodded, heart pounding in anxious worry. 

“Okay, thank you Tim. Let’s start with last night. Can you tell me what happened?” Bruce started, leaning over to watch Tim.

Tim stalled a moment, eyes darting between Dick and Bruce. Taking a deep breath, he began to recall the day, “well, my parents came home early. They, um, they had gotten calls from the school that I hadn’t been attending. And the school threatened to call the police for a wellness check, and so um, my parents came home.” 

_ Alright Tim, ease off the stuttering and hurry this along.  _

“They wanted to know where Dick was, why he wasn’t babysitting me? And I told them I had fired Dick, and they were mad.”

“Why were they mad?” Bruce asked gently.

Tim froze, he hadn’t exactly told them about his parents wanting stocks in Wayne Enterprise yet. 

_ This is different than telling my parents about Batman and Robin but… fuck Tim, it’s still analyzing them for information!  _

“They… well they, you see, um. They had previously, uh” Tim tethered off, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, Tim. Whatever it is, you’re gonna be okay,” Dick told him, rubbing a hand over Tim’s back.

“When they had first hired Dick,” Tim started, leaning into said boy's side, “they wanted me to find out more about you- about Bruce Wayne. They thought that maybe you would do something bad or stupid that they could blackmail you with.”

“Blackmail? To help their company?” Bruce asked.

“Yea, they wanted more partnerships between Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries.”

“And they were mad about you firing Dick?”

“Yea, I never gave them any information, anything they could blackmail you with. It’s not like you do anything bad anyways and, um, they were upset that any potential line was ruined.”

“So what did they do to express their upset?”

“They, no, my father, he started to yell at me. He called me a few names and said I was worthless. And- and then he,” Tim’s breathing had picked up by now, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his heart continued to pound, “he slapped me. And that's when my mom made him stop and told me to leave.”

Dick pulled him into a hug, Tim’s face smushed against his chest, and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe now Timmy,” Dick shushed, trying to calm Tim down. 

After what felt like too long, Tim pulled back, rubbing at his face to try and hide the blotchy redness of his eyes and cheeks. He settled back next to Dick and let the other wrap an arm around him.

“If you want, we can stop here, Tim,” Bruce suggested, already leaning over the table to grab the deceive he’d set down to record their conversation. 

“No, it’s okay. I want to get this done now, please.”

Bruce looked skeptical, but sat back, “okay. I only have a few more questions. Are you ready?”

Tim nodded, gaining a small smile from Bruce. 

“Have either of your parents hit you before?”

“No.” They hadn’t, and Tim didn’t think they ever would. 

“How long are your parents usually in Gotham?”

“Out of the year? Maybe four months.” Tim might be rounding a bit.

“And they spend that time with you?”

“We go to galas together.” Usually Tim stayed by the snack table and waited for his parents to call it a night.

“What else do they do while in Gotham?”

“Work. And um, sometimes we go to museums if they’re featuring exhibits found by my parents. We haven’t been in a while though.” They hadn’t had a real family outing since the circus. 

“How often do your parents call?”

“Whenever they can.” That’s a lie.

“Tim?”

“Like, um, once a month or so, maybe?” They’ve gone full trips without calling. 

“Okay, thank you, that’s all for now,” Bruce reached over and turned the recording device off. Then he moved to the couch Tim and Dick were on and pulled Tim into a side hug. 

“You did good, Tim, I’m proud of you.”

Tim sniffled, leaning into the hug, “thank you.” 

They pulled back and Bruce stood up. He made his way back over to the phone and gestured to Dick.

“I’ll need to call the cops and let them know you’re here as well as why. It may be best if you both went ahead outside,” Bruce explained. 

Dick agreed, jumping to his feet and hefting Tim up into his arms. 

“Diiiick, I can still walk,” Tim hissed, shifting to get comfortable. 

“So?”

Tim glared at him halfheartedly, embarrassed from all the emotions recently. 

“What’re we gonna do now?” He asked, trying to discern where Dick was headed to.

“I still have groveling to do so I thought we could start with a tour of the cave!”

Tim sputtered, jerking back to look at Dick, “groveling? No-”

“Don’t even try to convince me what I did was okay. Timmy, I’m gonna spend the next eternity spoiling you to try and make up for it,” Dick told him with a sad smile.

“Okay but, I hope you know I already forgive you,” Tim told him. 

“I know, and that’s just part of the problem. We’ll work on your grudge skills, don’t worry,” Dick joked, approaching the clock that led to the Batcave. 

Tim huffed, memorizing the input Dick put in to unlock the hidden door. “I can hold a grudge.”

“Tim, you’re one of the most understanding and empathetic kids I’ve met. You need to be meaner,” Dick reprimanded.

“If I become mean I’ll stop laughing at all your bad jokes.”

Dick gasped, taking the steps quickly, “what? None of my jokes are bad! I take that back, Timmy, you’re mean enough as you are.”

Tim snorted, getting a good look around the cave. It was huge and airy and much more well lit now than it was last night. Mementos of all sorts decorated the cave and caught Tim’s attention. He wiggled in Dick’s arm until the elder set him down.

“Holy shit! I still can’t believe you guys have a dinosaur!” Tim hurried around the cave, jaw dropped at all the different artifacts. 

“Aw, language! Don’t let Alfie hear that,” Dick laughed, following him. 

“How the fuck did you guys get all this stuff?” Tim asked, ignoring Dick’s warning. 

Dick began to retell stories of past missions, some Tim had witnessed himself and had gotten photos of. They walked along the cave, Dick gesturing widely and shining under Tim’s attention. 

Tim stored away all the tales, taking in everything he could.  _ Robin was showing him the Batcave! _

Soon they came to a large computer and Tim excitedly sat down in the large chair in front of it. 

“I bet you got fast internet,” Tim gasped, looking over the fancy keyboard.

“Faster than any other computer you’d find in Gotham,” Dick sounded proud, but Tim couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Batcomputer. 

“Wanna see the databases we have programmed?” Dick asked coyly. 

“Fuck yes!” Tim wiggled in the seat to get closer, hands twitching excitedly in his lap. 

Dick chuckled and loaded up the system, showing off the program. Tim looked over files and at a few cold cases and even peeked into the police files the Batcave had on access. Feeling practically ready to burst, Tim finally looked over to Dick.

“You have to teach me how to hack on here,” he demanded.

“Okay okay, that might be more of Bruce’s expertise,” Dick accepted, switching off the computer, “you ready to head back up? I’m sure Bruce is off the phone by now.”

Tim nodded, letting Dick usher him back up the steps. Upstairs, they headed into the main sitting room, looking around for Bruce. They ended up finding him with Alfred in the kitchen. 

“Hey B,” Dick greeted, “what’s the plan?”

Tim eyed Bruce, sensing he was a bit upset. It felt weird, how serious everyone was. Sure Bruce always seemed solemn and serious, but Tim had been around enough to know he was much friendlier and happier than he let on. 

“The cops will be stopping by the Drake’s manor first, asking where Tim is. When Janet and Jack cannot provide an answer, it will open up the investigation. Gordon already knows Tim is here, and I’ve informed him I will be pursuing legal action to get Tim out of Jack and Janet’s care.” Bruce sounded sure of himself, and it was comforting to know Tim had Batman on his side.

“You think he’s on our side?” Dick asked.

“I do, chum. He didn’t make it obvious, but I know he cares about Gotham’s youth.”

Tim had only seen Commissioner Gordon in person a select few times, usually at night when he’d run into him by chance while following Batman and Robin. He knew he had a daughter, one Tim suspected may be the newest bat, something he’d have to ask Bruce and Dick about after all this. He seemed nice, he always asked Tim why he was out late and if he needed help getting home when they did run into each other. Tim wasn’t sure Mr. Gordon knew who he was, but he might connect some dots after this case.

“Then what?” Tim asked, shuffling into one of the barstools against the kitchen island. 

“The police will probably stop by here and ask for your statement. I already told them I have it recorded, but they may reaffirm some things. They’ll possibly be in and out the next few days as my lawyers work and the set up court.” 

This was really happening, it was hard to wrap his head around. Tim rested his head on his knuckle, staring out towards the other side of the kitchen and tried to think things over. 

“Is that okay, Tim?” Dick asked, sitting in the seat next to him.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. It’s just… a lot.”

“Yea, I get what you mean. We’ll be here with you every step of the way. If you need anything, just say the word,” Dick swore, looking so sure Tim couldn’t help but believe him. 

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur, it was Saturday so Tim wasn’t missing any school at least. However his long absence was addressed by the police. Several social workers and the commissioner himself arrived at the manor, relying that the Drake’s had no idea Tim had ever left. 

A younger woman with curly brown hair and a pinstriped suit asked Tim a few questions, some of the ones Bruce had asked earlier, but also a few like  _ do you like Mr. Wayne  _ and  _ do you feel safe here _ ? He answered them all as well as he could, and when he was done, she thanked him for his time. 

“You’re doing very well for someone in your position, Tim. I’m going to give you my card. If for whatever reason you need help, call me anytime,” she told him and slid a stock card with her information on it into Tim’s hands. 

“Yes ma’am, thank you.” 

She gave him one last tired smile before heading back to the foyer where Mr. Gordon and Bruce were talking. Tim peeked into the room, seeing the social worker who had pulled Dick aside was now joining the group again as well. 

“He can stay here for now, Mr. Wayne, but that doesn’t mean anything yet,” the commissioner told Bruce. His face was set in a grim frown that made worry bubble up inside Tim.

“I know, I’ll work on the permanent residence part. Thank you for your help, Jim,” Bruce reached out and shook the man's hand in a silent understanding. 

Not long after, all the workers left and Tim stepped out into the room, heading to stand next to Bruce. Dick was quick to follow, looking pleased.

“Tim! You get to stay with us while the case is open,” Dick was grinning ear to ear and Tim couldn’t help smiling back. 

“For now, I still have more work to do,” Bruce mumbled, already setting off on a plan. 

“But you’ll make it work, right?” Dick asked, looking hopeful. 

Bruce was quiet a moment, then nodded, “yes. It will work out. If Tim wants to stay with us still at the end of this, he will.” 

Dick and Tim let out a little cheer, Dick reaching over for a high five. 

“Tim, you don’t have to worry over this, I’ll figure things out for now,” Bruce promised.

“Thank you. And also, if you’ll still want me, I definitely want to stay.”

“You’ll always be welcome here, Tim. Now how about you and Dick go do something fun, I have boring lawyers to talk to,” Bruce sighed, reaching over to ruffle Tim’s hair. 

Ti and Dick did just that, Dick spending the rest of the day distracting Tim with video games and a call with Wally and skateboarding. Hanging out like this almost made Tim forget anything bad had happened at all. It was only when he’d brush a hand against his cheek and feel the ache of the bruise there that he’d remember and felt a pang of heartache once more. 

* * *

Bruce was serious about taking care of everything. The next few days, Tim never left the manor, nor did he hear much more about the case besides updates on the police report. Supposedly his parents were being more than difficult. Tim had been expecting a call from them, or even them showing up at the door demanding to see him, but it never came. 

Instead, Tim spent his days with Dick and Alfred and Bruce when he was free. Luckily he was able to convince Dick to give him alone time still. It was still new and weird to be around people so often, and sometimes Tim needed a break from the noise to sit in his room alone. 

It was in this alone time Tim did a little catching up on the superhero world, going over the things he missed while hiding away. When he spotted an article about a Kid Flash and Robin team up, Tim realized he had a few questions for Dick and Wally the next time they got to call. 

He also spent these quiet times trying to catch up on homework. It wasn’t hard work, Tim could figure most of it out easily enough, it was actually focusing on it that was the problem. Every now and then he’d even break the quiet to call Dick in and make him help Tim stay on track. 

The following week, he went back to school and caught up with his friends and teachers. He was welcomed back with open arms and questions on if he was okay. Several teachers pulled him aside to ask about his whereabouts and the fading bruise on his cheek, and Tim gave simple answers of “it’s being handled”. 

Tim was just starting to get back into the swing of things when Bruce approached him and Dick one night. They were playing video games after dinner when Bruce joined them, sitting down on the couch and practically crushing Dick. 

“You killed me!” Dick whined, trying to squirm away from Bruce. 

“That’s too bad. I have some news.”

Tim and Dick irked up and looked over expectantly. 

“C’mon B, don’t make us guess,” Tim frowned.

“Tim, the court date has been decided. Your parents complied. It will be this coming Monday.”

Tim felt all the air leave him, a cold rush taking over him instead. He’d be seeing his parents soon. In a courtroom. While he argues against them. 

“That’s pretty soon,” Tim’s voice was quiet, but Bruce and Dick heard him well enough.

“We want this to be over as soon as possible. It was the only date your parents have agreed to as well. Is this okay?” Bruce asked in a gentle tone. 

Tim shrugged, “it's fine I mean, we have to go through with this. It’s better sooner than later. Will I miss school?”

Bruce studied his face a moment and Tim wanted to turn away from him. “Yes, just another day. Then you’ll be back in class. It’s not good for kids to miss school.”

Dick snorted and Bruce shot him a glare, if the conversation had been any different, Tim may have laughed. Instead he sat back against the couch and fiddled with the remote in his hand. 

Numbly, he went through the rest of the week, in the evenings he spoke to the child protective service lady from before and one of Bruce’s lawyers. Both prepared him in different ways, going over questions that may be asked and reaffirming what he wanted the outcome to be. Dick tried to keep his spirits up with games and trips to the Batcomputer and old stories, but it felt like water washing over him and leaving nothing behind. 

Tim realized he was scared. 

Scared to see his parents. Scared to fight his parents. Scared for what might happen to his parents. 

The day of the trial was nerve wracking, Tim could barely follow what was happening. When he was called to the stand, he was shaking so bad the judge had paused to ask if he needed help. 

It felt like it dragged on, the whole time Tim couldn’t stop watching his parents. They seemed to be avoiding looking at him though, because any time their eyes met Tim’s, they’d sneer and turn away. 

One thing Tim picked up on quickly was that his parents were fighting less for keeping custody of him and more for avoiding jail time. It must not have gone unnoticed by the judge or jury either, as when the time to make a sentence came along the court came to a long thought out decision in Tim’s favor. 

“As much as Gotham’s system would prefer to keep the Drake’s with their son, it’s become apparent through trial and documented evidence that Jack and Janet Drake are not fit to parent Timothy Drake.” 

That. That was something Tim did remember from the day. He wasn’t sure what his parents were charged with in the end, abuse or neglect, or how much their bail was, though he was sure they could pay it. But he remembered the feeling of just complete relief when he realized he wouldn’t be staying with his parents any longer. 

After they were let out, Tim was sweept into a tight hug by Dick, the uncomfortable suits they’d been shoved into wrinkling between them. When dick let him go, Bruce came in next, hugging Tim tight. Tim buried his head into the junction between his head and neck and couldn’t stop the littney of thank yous pouring from him. 

His parents stopped him before he could leave, his mother stepping forward. Bruce and Dick gave him space, falling back but staying close enough for if he needed help.

“Timothy.” Janet started in a clipped tone.

“Yes, mother?”

“It’s… a shame it came to this.”

“Yes.”

“I know Jack and I are clearly not the best suited parents. When the services offered family therapy as a method of not losing you, we… your father and I hadn’t liked the idea. We probably shouldn’t have had a child in the first place,” she admitted, “we travel too much for a home life.”

_ Ouch. Good to know I really am a mistake to you. _

“That doesn’t change, however, that as poorly as we showed it, we do love you. I realized, in between lawyers and social visits, that we were not providing for you in suitable ways. I hope Wayne does.” Her voice sounded raw, like she’d been thinking over this some time. Tim’s eyes felt wet, but it didn’t seem appropriate to cry in front of them. 

She stepped back and let Jack take her place. He kneeled down more to Tim’s height and looked him over. 

“Your mother's right, Tim. I’m sorry, kid. Maybe in a few years when we settle down, we’ll see you again?” 

Tim nodded. He doubted it, his parents were technically allowed monitored visits, but he didn’t see them ever partaking in one. 

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but bit it off. Instead he looked Tim over once more, and settled a heavy hand on his shoulder. They stood like that a moment, and Tim almost wished Jack would move and pull him in for a hug. But he didn’t. And soon enough, he was stepping back next to Janet and the two were leaving following after some workers. 

Tim watched them go, lips pursed and eyes heavy. Bruce and Dick stepped up to join him shortly, crowding him in a comforting manner. 

The ride home was silent, Alfred dropped them at the manor and shuffled them inside. 

“Well now, I say we need a good meal to commemorate a good win,” Alfred said, making his way to Tim. 

He pulled Tim into a gentle hug, and Tim held on steadfastly, glad for the comfort. 

“That sounds good, thanks Alfie.”

“It’s the least I could do, dear boy.”

That night they feasted, and after they had enough desserts to make Tim concerned he may rot out all his teeth. The cheer of the trial had made its way back and by dinner they’d already started making plans to have social workers come by and determine if Bruce could take over Tim’s care full time. 

That night, bundled up in the softest hand-me-down pajamas and curled in Dick’s bed for an impromptu sleepover, Tim let himself fully relax. His parents may be gone, but he had his new family. One that would actually be here with him, and that was enough to settle his nerves. And even if it wasn’t, he had Dick’s cuddles to soothe him to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea ive never been to court whoops but its a fanfic based in a corrupt city so its okay their systems probably screwed anyways. ignore all the extra spelling errors and how all over the place this is pls i am tired


	10. Future Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time has passed, and things are changing but always for the better.

Tim sealed the envelope quickly, cringing at the taste of the glue, and got up to hurry downstairs. Coming around the corner, he took the steps two at a time. Rushing head first into the main sitting room, Tim met eyes with his target and jumped into his arms. 

“Found it!” Tim laughed.

Dick wrapped his arms around Tim to get a better grip and joined in on the laughter, “I can’t believe you lost my gift.”

Tim maneuvered his way so he was sitting comfortably on Dick’s hip and also able to show him the raspberry he was blowing his way. Dick stuck his tongue out in return, but it was difficult as neither could stop smiling. 

“You’re lucky I got you something, Bruce told me I shouldn’t.”

“Bruce!” Dick whined, turning with Tim towards said man.

“I said no such thing. Are you really going to trust that little liar over me?” Bruce asked, lounging back on one of the couches.

Dick seemed to think it over, looking between the two. “Yea, I’d pick Timmy any day, even if he lies to me.’

Tim shot him a big grin and handed his envelope over, letting Dick set him down on the couch.

“You’re not as small as you were before, Timbit, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to carry you around,” Dick joked, and Tim knew full well he was bluffing. Tim still hadn’t grown an inch, and even if he did manage to grow at all, Dick would still find ways to lug him around.

“It’s okay, I’ll replace you with Bruce,” Tim lied. 

Dick pouted and went to open his card, ignoring Bruce’s smirk. Tearing it open, Dick peeked inside and found various photo prints. Pulling them out, he sat down between Bruce and Tim to look through them. 

Tim felt excited, nervous energy building up in him. He’d been planning this for awhile, and with Alfred’s help was able to accomplish it. 

The first photo on top was one of Bruce and Dick outside. Both were on skateboards with big, dumb grins. They’d taken to Tim’s lessons as easily as expected, and Tim was still in awe he got  _ Batman  _ on a skateboard. 

“Aww, look at B flail,” Dick flipped the photo over, seeing a date.

He moved to the next one, the next few were all shots of Batman and Robin. Older pics from when they’d started out, when Tim was only eight and his shots weren’t always as clear, to pictures as recent as last year when he got a shot of Bruce and Dick eating burgers on a rooftop. 

Dick grinned at all of them, recalling some of the memories he had of them, and asking Tim how he got certain shots. After Batman and Robin were two pictures of Dick and Tim. The first was a copy of one Tim’s had a long time. A photo from when they first met, when Dick had posed with him at the circus. The next was from last year, it was a photo of them celebrating after they’d been adopted officially by Bruce. 

Dick’s lip trembled as he slid the photos back in the envelope. He turned to Tim and pulled him into a big hug, which Tim happily returned. 

“Thank you, buddy, that’s a good gift,” Dick’s voice was a bit hushed, so it was more like he was whispering the words just for Tim. 

“You can’t forget about me in San Francisco,” Tim grumbled, his own voice sounding a little scratchy. 

Dick pulled back with a wet laugh, rubbing at his eyes, “how could I forget about my favorite, baby brother?” 

“I’m your only brother.” Tim rolled his eyes and tried to get his emotions back under control. 

“Okay, fine. But just know, I’ll be visiting often. You’ll see me so much, it’ll almost be like i never left!” Dick promised.

“Try not to come back too often. Tim and I have big No Dick Grayson plans.”

Dick scowled at Bruce before his face lit up, “those plans wouldn’t have anything to do with Robin, would they?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “no, they wouldn’t. No Robin until he’s at least thirteen. And even then, he’d still have training and weight requirements and-”

“Yea yea, okay, no Robin for me! Sorry, Dick,” Tim cut in. He’d heard Bruce and Dick argue over this  _ a million damn _ times. He’d never even said he wanted to be Robin, he’d simply asked Dick what would happen to Robin when he was gone.

“What about my legacy?” Dick gasped. 

“Who knows, maybe Tim will hold off on hero business altogether until he can take over Batman for me,” Bruce mused.

“Ew,” Tim gagged, “no way!”

Dick laughed and Bruce shot him a hurt look. “Why won’t either of my kids take the mantle when I’m done?”

“Batman’s an old fart, B. We need something fresh,” Dick told him, running a hand through his hair. It had gotten long, it’d been long since Tim met him, but it reached his shoulders now. It had loose curls and Dick used lots of fancy shampoos and conditioners to make sure he was in top condition. Sometimes Tim would tie his hair up in wonky braids and loose ponytails that Dick would keep in the rest of the day. 

“Yea, like Nightwing,” Tim added. 

Dick beamed, “speaking of, you wanna see my new uniform, Timmy?” 

“Be quick, Dick, you don’t want to miss your flight,” Bruce told him without any real resistance. 

“Okay, wait here just one second,” and he was off. 

Bruce and Tim sat in a comfortable silence before Bruce broke it, “it’ll be quieter without Dickie around.”

“Mhm. I’ll just have to start yelling and speaking anything that comes to mind from now on.”

Bruce huffed, “I don’t think you’d have the energy. It’s hard to keep up with Dick.”

And that was true. Tim wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to do without Dick all summer. He was excited for his brother, starting the Teen Titans and taking on a new name was all big news. But it was going to be lonely without him. 

Tim didn’t have much time to think on it before they were joined by local sunshine Dick again. 

Bursting through the doors to the sitting room, Dick spread his arms and showed off his new gear. Tim held back laughter, eyeing him up. 

“Oh Dick, what the  _ fuck _ is that?” Tim said before breaking out into a giggling fit. 

Bruce didn’t even correct his language, instead his eyes were stuck on Dick, a disgusted and confused look distorting his face. 

“Son, what are you wearing?”

“My new Nightwing costume. You guys are so cruel,” Dick grumbled, flexing in an attempt to show off the suit some more.

“You look straight out of a disco bar!” Tim snorted, not even trying to cover up his laughter now. 

Dick’s suit was ridiculous, a high collar that would most definitely block his vision, bright feathers, a deep neckline. Tim did like it, the appeal was… somewhere in there, but it was a sight to see.

“Hey! Disco is fashionable!” Dick whined.

Bruce still looked distraught, unable to add much.

“I like that you added pants?” Tim tried. 

“Well… that's something at least. I was hoping for a little more gushing, Timmy.” 

Tim grinned, “it’s very nice Dick. I’m sure  _ Wally  _ will like it too. And have you shown Babs?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dick mumbled, and Tim spotted a blush creeping up on his cheeks. 

“Yea, what  _ is _ that supposed to mean?” Bruce interjected. 

“Nothing, B!” Dick and Tim sounded off at the same time.

“Remember the rules, no dating until you’re thirty. Now go get changed, Dick, you can’t be seen out in that… costume,” Bruce cringed, looking at the oh so offensive uniform once again. 

“Fine, and don’t worry, I won’t even look at anyone until I’m as ancient as you!” Dick swore, hurrying back out to change again before Bruce could add any more rules. 

When Dick returned, back in pants and a sweater, they headed on their way to the airport. Alfred drove, no way he was missing out on saying farewell. At the zone entrance, Bruce helped Dick unload his bags and pulled him in for a big hug. 

Tim could tell they were whispering goodbyes to each other, but he couldn’t make out what they were. In what seemed like too soon for Bruce, Dick pulled away. “Alright, dad, lemme hug Alfie and Tim too.”

Alfred was next, it was a quicker embrace with less force behind it, but Tim knew it was just as important. 

“Take care of yourself, Master Dick. And please, make real meals from time to time.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, I’ll visit on the weekends for a homemade meal whenever I can.”

When Dick made his way to Tim next, they both watched each other unmoving for a beat. Then Dick dropped down and pulled him in tight, resting his head on Tim’s. Tim wrapped his arms around Dick’s shoulders, holding back sniffles. 

“I’m gonna miss you, little man. Call me all the time, I wanna hear from you at least ten times a week.”

Tim gave a weak laugh, burying his face deep against Dick, “I’d have to call you multiple times a day?”

“That sounds perfect,” Dick pulled back just enough to look Tim in the eyes, and Tim could tell he was holding back his own tears, “seriously, Timmy, call me whenever. For anything.”

“Okay, but you have to call first sometimes too,” Tim agreed. 

After one last hug, Dick let him go and grabbed his bags from Bruce. Heading into the building he waved excitedly, “love you guys! See you soon!” 

Tim waved back and let himself be corralled back into the car by Bruce. If Tim didn’t know any better, he’d swore he saw Bruce rubbing at his eyes as he watched Dick leave. Tim buckled into his seat, shaking his arms out like it'd shake off all his extra emotions. 

“How about we grab some Batburger on the way home?” Bruce asked, and Tim nodded happily, ignoring Alfred’s scoff.

\------------

Dick leaving changed everything and nothing. Tim and he had been calling every few days, catching up and talking about the Titans. Tim had even had a few phone calls with Wally, time spent usually teasing Dick. 

Tim had already started joining Alfred in the cave before Dick left, but now he spent most nights watching the monitors and assisting Batman any way he could. Tim had taken well to his duty, it was heavily intuition based, and Tim managed to keep up well, warning Bruce of upcoming hits and potential threats. 

It was a fun job, but nerve wracking nonetheless. It felt weird to be the one watching out for Batman now, but Tim took his job very seriously. And Bruce did seem to enjoy Tim’s time on comms, even if Tim was  _ a little  _ more chatty than Alfred. 

It was actually one of Tim’s nights on monitoring duty- he wasn’t allowed more than five nights a week, and his curfew was 12 am on said nights, when Bruce found  _ him _ . 

It was getting late, Tim would have to head up to bed soon, when Bruce had just finished his rounds in Crime Alley. The Batmobile suddenly sent an alert, there was tampering with it. Tim couldn’t gather anything else from the computer, so he quickly connected to Bruce’s comm line.

“B, be careful! I think someone is waiting for you at the Batmobile?”

The line was dead, and Tim was starting to worry, about ready to get up and call Alfred, when Bruce’s voice cut in. 

With a snort, Bruce answered, “don’t worry, I think I found our guy. I don’t think he’ll be any trouble.” 

“What? B, flip on your camera!” Tim whined, now more curious than anything if Batman wasn’t worried. 

With a click, Batman’s sights from the cowl lit up the screen. Plucked up in the big bad bat’s gauntlet was just a kid. He was holding a tire iron and flailing it at Bruce in a threat. Taking in his curled dark hair and patched clothes, Tim gasped.

“That’s the kid that scuffed my camera!” 

Bruce hummed, reaching to set the kid down and pull the tool from him. Tim listened to Bruce question the kid, and he wrote down everything said. Name, Jason Todd, no parents at home, hungry enough to steal from Batman, and he claimed he wasn’t scared of any Bats or Birds. 

“What are you thinking is the best course of action?” Bruce asked him. 

“Who are you talking to?” Tim could hear the kid ask in the background.

“He’s hungry right? And he’s got no one at home? B… maybe he could come here?” Tim asked, twiddling with his fingers. 

“My associate says he’d like to offer you a warm meal and shower?” Bruce offered the kid. 

“I’m not pimping for some Bat,” the kid seethed. 

“I think you’ll find no one is interested in such things. Batman helps, and I’d like to offer you a place to take rest,” Bruce spoke gently, and Tim was gnawing on his lip worriedly. He hoped the kid would say yes, he liked his personality so far. Anyone brave enough to try and steal from Batman was cool as fuck in Tim’s book.

“And you ‘associate’?” the boy asked with finger quotes, “what’s his deal?”

“I think you’ll find he’s quite manageable.”

Tim giggled, “yea sure, already lying to him?”

Jason- if that was his name and not a throwaway- hesitated a while longer, but eventually hunger and the thought of a warm shower must have won him over, because he agreed. 

“Fine, but any funny business and it's your head!” Jason grumbled, following Bruce back to the Batmobile. 

“I’ve been told I have no sense of humour, so that shouldn’t be a problem,” Bruce told him, and Tim snickered into the mic. 

“I’m gonna get Alfie and tell him to start a meal, stay safe on the drive!” Tim informed him and waited for a goodbye before shutting off the line. 

Hurrying upstairs, Tim felt his excitement build. He’d tell Alfred to start cooking something good and get a bed ready, and then he had to call Dick. 

This was a whole new venture, and Tim would need all the help he could get. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and the end. i wanted to say thank you to anyone who left comments and supported my fic! I'm bad at responding, by they were all very fun to read <3 I hope you all enjoyed and that the ending was worth it. its kinda short but full of fluff


End file.
